


Sweet Dreams Are Made of These

by Ashriver



Category: Dragon Age
Genre: Adventure, F/M, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-08-21
Updated: 2012-08-21
Packaged: 2017-11-12 15:24:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 21
Words: 48,554
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/492703
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ashriver/pseuds/Ashriver
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alyssa Amell was recruited by Duncan as an apostate mage trying to escape a prison worse than the Circle. Her nomadic past honed her exceptional healing talents. The Blight threatening Thedas gives her a reason to go on. Zevran gives her a reason to live.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. After Ostagar

The sun is setting over the Wilds. I've worn a ditch at the lip of a reed choked pond that smells of rot and rusted iron. Duncan is dead. My Warden brothers are all dead. The king is dead. So many people slaughtered by Loghain's treachery. It turns my stomach. Duncan, I'm sorry I couldn't shield you. Off on some fool's errand when I should have...well, it doesn't matter now. Stuck in a swamp with the only other Grey Warden in all of Ferelden hanging on to her life by a thread. Nothing matters anymore.

She was the last recruit to pass The Joining. Daveth and Ser Jory were not so lucky, Maker keep them. I expected some friction between us, what with my Templar training and she being a mage, an apostate no less. Duncan's judgment of character is... was solid enough and I trusted him, but this still made me nervous. A Warden apostate. She was so quiet. She barely said two words to anyone save for Duncan and even then they were short. I tried to engage her in conversation, but she was evasive at best and completely silent at worst.

Duncan told me little about how he found her. He was passing by some Denerim noble's estate during a wedding and saw her bleeding to death on top of a pile of broken crates. Apparently she had been on the roof of the building moments before. He didn't mention what she was doing up there or how she fell. I gather it wasn't pleasant by the way she moved away from anyone who got too close to her. She gave her name begrudgingly. Alyssa.

At first I thought she was someone's daughter until she said Duncan has sent her to find me. He told me that he found a new recruit but failed to mention how young she looked. Pretty girl too, at least I think so, but not that it should matter. I got the feeling from the way she carries herself that she doesn't see it. Anytime Daveth tried to flirt with her all she gave back were blank stares as if he were talking about a different person. She's more cute than the conventionally pretty ladies at court. I'm used to being taller than most, but she makes me feel like a giant standing next to her. Her jaw is a bit square, but flatters her full cheeks and thick eyebrows. Pink lips, dark brown eyes that remind me of the shape of butterfly wings and more freckles that I have ever seen on anyone. I tried not to notice how curvy she was, but when you're surrounded by women who are either no more than waifs or stern looking warriors it's hard not to notice. It is the army after all. All of her spiral brown curls are completely out of control. It was quite funny to see her try to rein them in with a strip of leather she cut off her belt.

Duncan had sent us off into the Korcari Wilds to gather the last of the materials we need for the Joining. The fetid swamp chilled us all to the bone, but if Alyssa felt cold she had hidden it well. Daveth seemed comfortable enough in our group. Ser Jory not so much. I tried to ease his mind by telling him a full Warden can sense the darkspawn, whatever their cunning. It was a cold reassurance. I looked over at Alyssa. So distant. After a time, I tried talking to her. "What's your favorite color?" It was the safest question I could think of. She looked at me, furrowed her brow, and she was silent for so long that I figured she had forgotten what I had asked.

"Dark green," she said.

"Oh," I was surprised. "I'm partial to blue, myself." My lips quirked up into a smile. So did hers. She couldn't look up at me for very long. Quick glances were all she consented to. I wondered if my being a Templar just added to the awkward feeling between us. It couldn't have helped.

However she felt about her situation, her Joining or me, Alyssa fought as one of us. Even as I complained about being sent to light the beacon in the Tower of Ishal, she just nodded to Duncan with a determined look on her face. All through the darkspawn filled tower she showered me and the two guards with healing and protection spells. In the end, we were overpowered by the sheer number of our enemy and no aid from Loghain's retreating forces.

If I knew how serious things were to get I would have asked something more clever. I should have acted more like a Grey Warden when Duncan sent us to the tower, not joking about dancing and cross dressing. Stupid. Why do I have to be so stupid all the time? Maybe if I had been more serious he would have let me fight beside him. Had I been less of a prat, maybe I could have made him proud. If I was just a bit faster or stronger, if I refused to leave him he might... might... It doesn't matter. He's gone. They're all gone. But not Alyssa.

The apostates we met earlier in this swamp are now trying to save the life of the mage that protected me from the surging spawn. Maker, please keep her safe. There is no help, no Wardens, no army and no one to lead even if there were. She can't die. Just the thought makes me nauseous. Maker, please. I can't do this on my own. I just can't.


	2. Fear and Lothering

Alyssa was being followed. Footsteps fell rhythmically behind her crunching on dirt and dead twigs making her skin crawl. One of them was a Templar. The apostate didn't faze her a bit, but the Templar, he was another matter.

Alistair was the first to greet her at Ostagar. Well, greet was a strong word. She had arrived just as he and a Circle Mage were finishing an argument. As the irritated mage pushed past her, Alistair rolled his eyes, "You know. The one good thing about a Blight is how it brings us all together." An arched eyebrow was her only reply before he had launched himself into an introduction. Maker, he prattled on. There was a Rivaini word her father used for people like him, chiacchieron. He only remembered to ask her name when he finally stopped to take a breath.

"Alyssa."

"Right! That was the name," he smiled. It was warm, friendly. In spite of the trepidation she felt, Alyssa was finding him to be quite charming.

She tipped her head in the direction of the now long gone mage, "What was he so mad about?"

"The mage?" Alistair said, "The Circle of Magi is here at the king's request and the Chantry doesn't like that one bit. They just love letting mages know just how unwelcome they are." He rubbed his temple with a leather gloved finger and smirked, "Which puts me in an awkward position since I was once a Templar."

Every muscle in her frame tensed up, forcing her to take a step back. So much for charming. Heat shot up her arms and threatened to start curling into flame, but she managed to still the fire before it manifested.

Alistair frowned, seemingly unsurprised by her reaction. It couldn't be helped. The memory of that night was still an open wound. The running. The fire. The smell of blood and the image of her mother slumped over with a Templar blade sticking out her back as her father begged his little girl to look away. It was so long ago and yet still so near.

This man in front of her was not the one who drew her mother's blood, but she hadn't held onto the freedom her parents died for only to make nice with strangers. The Templar started to apologize. "I'm sorry. I don't mean to make you uncomfortable. I never finished my training and honestly it wasn't even my idea in the first place." He lowered his head and scowled. "I was sent to the Chantry as a boy and didn't have any choice in the matter." When he talked of Duncan, his face brightened and he looked genuinely relieved. "He was the first person to care about what I wanted. I'll always be grateful."

She noticed how careful he was with his body language. He gave her space when they walked around the Ostagar camp, making sure to keep a few feet between them. Whenever she looked over, Alistair would smile warmly. He asked her opinion. He asked about her favorite color. When they met Morrigan in the wilds, he cautioned the others to be wary instead of striking her down where she stood as Alyssa expected. That restraint earned her respect. His humor won him a smile, however slight. Most of all, Duncan had vouched for him.

She pulled her mind back to the present, walking side by side with a not quite Templar and a witch of the wilds. Morrigan hadn't spoken two words to either of them since they left Flemeth. Neither had Alistair since their discussion with the old woman. He was lost to his grief over his fallen brothers and Duncan. Alyssa couldn't fault him for that, but neither could she think of any words of comfort to offer. When she suffered her own losses no words had been given to her. She and her father had to race from one hiding place to the next, never settling in any village for long.

She should say something. Alistair was there when she awoke in Flemeth's hut and he seemed genuinely relieved that she was ok. Not how a hardened Templar would react to a wounded apostate.

Alyssa looked over at him, seeing tracks of tears cutting through the dust on his cheeks. The poor guy looked so heartbroken. "Do you want to talk about it?"

Alistair dragged his leather wrapped wrist across his nose and squared his shoulders. "You don't have to do that," his voice was brusque. "I know you didn't know him as long as I did."

It didn't matter. Duncan was her savior too. He took her away from that awful place, right out of the hands of that bastard and made her a part of something. She would always be grateful and would have followed him anywhere. "The way you talked about him, he was like a father to you it seemed."

"I…," he looked away and swallowed hard. "I should have handled it better." Alistair paused. Biting his bottom lip, he blinked away a fresh round of tears. "Duncan warned me this could happen. That any of us could die in battle. I shouldn't have lost it, not with so much riding on us. Not with the Blight…." He put a trembling hand to his forehead, but was able to steady himself in spite of his pain, "…and everything. I'm sorry."

The Warden Mage regarded him. For such a big, strong guy he could be so gentle. It didn't seem to bother Alistair that she was a mage. So far he hadn't rubbed it in her face or looked down on her for it. A chatterbox he could be, but when he wasn't looking she allowed herself a smile at his jokes and puns. She watched how he treated those around him. Even when he was chilly with Morrigan, he was never a bully and with his size and training, Alistair could have snapped the girl's neck in two if he was of a mind. But that wasn't him. He was no sword. He was a shield. Hopefully this new evaluation would hold up in the days to come. She was willing to give him a chance. "You don't need to apologize. I understand."

"Have you had someone close to you die?" he asked softly. "Not that I mean to pry. I'm just…"

Alyssa felt a swell in her throat. "My parents. They gave up everything to protect me."

"I'm sorry."

They were silent for a time, just letting their feet carry them closer to Lothering. The town was cresting over the hill on the horizon. "Thank you," Alistair said. She cocked her head. "It was good to talk about it, at least a little."

"Ah," she nodded. "If you like, I can go with you to Highever. When this is all done. If that's ok?" She could feel heat under her collar that had nothing to do with any magic she could conjure.

A wan smile pulled at his full lips. "I'd like that. So would he I think."

Companionable silence settled in, until a huge Mabari hound barreled down the road heading straight for the Wardens.


	3. Assassin's Plea

He watched the girl run up the road, flagging down the last two Grey Wardens in Ferelden. It was about time they showed up. He ruined his best pair of boots slogging through this mud pit of a country. It didn't matter much. He wasn't planning on walking away from this fight anyhow. There were four in the group, all humans and one of the stupid dogs he had seen in every corner of this place. A broad shouldered man, two slender women, one with a staff and the other holding a bow were all being led by some short chubby girl. the Wardens must have taken quite a beating if this was the last of them. The look on the leader's face was priceless when he drew his blades and said, "The Grey Warden's die here."

The dark haired witch and red headed archer fought back to back, showering the flanking attackers with arrows and explosive magic. The witch did an impressive maneuver, a fire ball from one hand and a freezing blast from the other. The big guy clad in leather and metal cut up the middle with his shield and longsword, followed close behind by a vicious Mabari hound. The girl, a mage by the look of it, hung back doling out healing aid. While she was distracted, Zevran moved through the shadows to close in behind her. One swift slash from his poisoned blades and it would be all over.

At least for one of them.

The assassin studied his target from the safety of his shadow cloak. She didn't seem like the Warden type, at least not from the rumors that painted them as peerless warriors. She didn't look old enough to leave her mother's skirts let alone join an order known for it's ruthlessness. No killer instinct, clearly from the healing spells flowing from her hands. What good is a scorpion without a lethal sting? Zevran sneered.

He stepped from shadow. The healer turned about, swinging her staff at his head. He ducked back in time, but missed the follow up from the other end catching him in the gut. Instead of running, the Warden pushed forward. Drops of poison flicked of the ends of his daggers as he brought them about to block the girl's strike. Staff against dagger, they pushed each other, locking eyes. Like a lamb to the slaughter. Her breath was fast and shallow, her brow covered with beads of sweat. He was practically giving her victory, but she wouldn't land the killing strike. She was at his mercy.

Before Zevran could press further, a mass of fur and teeth slammed him against the wrecked wagon, raining splinters onto his face. Pain blasted through the back of his head, blurring his vision and turning is stomach upside down. All the colors bled into each other as he slid down like a sack of laundry. "Good doggy!" was the last thing he heard before his spinning world went dark.

Sweet oblivion at last…

There was no way to know how much time had passed when Zevran felt the air knocked out of him. Chips of wood fell in his hair as he was slammed against the side of the ruined wagon. It was amazing that there was anything left, after the beating it took. A hand at his throat gripped just short of choking, but he was more concerned about the dagger near his eye. Not good. It was his dagger, still laced with deadly poison. A slow death was not what he had in mind. The one who held him was the same little healer he had on the ropes before. Now she had him by the throat and her body was wreathed in translucent flames. Actual fire! Was that even possible? Did she feel the heat? The mage had her head turned, snarling something to her companions. He couldn't make out the words for the ringing in his ears. Two things were clear; she was furious and he was in big trouble.

Zevran tried batting her hands away, but the throbbing in his head sapped his strength. His hands ended up just sliding useless down the sides of hers, not even able to get a good grip on anything. How his legs managed to keep him up was a wonder, although he imagined she was doing most of the work. For someone shorter than he, the girl was surprisingly strong.

"…take that chance!" She was shouting at the small group beside her. Well, at least the ringing stopped.

A red headed woman with an Orlesian accent spoke in his defense. "The battle is over. We don't need to kill him. Let him go."

What was an Orlesian doing in Ferelden? After the war, Ferelden was an odd place for any of them to travel. Not that he was ungrateful for an advocate, mind you.

"Enough people are trying to kill us as it is, Leliana. I don't want him coming back for another go round."

"Alyssa, please," she begged, "let him go."

She really was a Grey Warden. Zevran's vision started to clear. While Warden Alyssa was distracted by her companion, he took stock of the others in her company and if there was any way he could get out of this mess. Near his left side, the Mabari that tackled him was scratching himself. He took his back paw and roughly dragged it behind his ear, panting as he went. When the dog's eyes met Zevran's a low growling rumbled from the animal. The assassin shifted his gaze when he heard a different voice from behind the Warden.

A tall dark haired woman stood beside the red head. She glanced up briefly from cleaning her nails, "Were I you, I would not let him live. Who knows when he will return and in how great a number."

The Warden mage pulled the dagger back, poised to strike despite Leliana's protest. Zevran clenched his eyes shut with a grimace, the pit of his stomach dropping out as he waited for the killing blow. Heat radiated down her arms making his skin prickle and flush. He wished it to be over. No more teasing, just done. Please let her have decent aim. Beads of sweat ran down the side of his head as the moment crawled by.

He felt a sudden thud followed by a short curse. Opening his eyes, Zevran saw the dagger sunk deep into the side of the wagon, inches from his face. He exhaled sharply and panted. If she had let go, the elf would have dropped to his knees for sure. They were shaking so much that Zevran doubted they would hold him.

"Thank the Maker," Leliana said.

"Fuck the Maker!" The Warden swore again.

Zevran forced down a hysterical chuckle at her irreverence, not wanting to test his luck any further. He swallowed hard. It would have been quite poetic to be skewered on his own blades by the person he was sent to kill.

The fire dancing over the Warden had flickered and vanished, but her anger was still quite evident from her scowl. She turned her eyes back to his, "You've got thirty seconds. Convince me to spare you." Her words were punctuated by an extra squeeze around his neck. He could feel his pulse beat fast against her fingers. There was no telling how this would play out.

The elf spoke quickly, "My name is Zevran. Zev to my friends. I am a member of the Antivan Crows, brought here to slay any surviving Grey Wardens, which I have failed at, sadly." He was barely able to choke out the words. Her grip gave his voice a strained reedy quality.

"Twenty-five seconds."

He felt something sharp at his ribs. Glancing down, he saw small knife in her free hand pressing against his stomach. Zevran winced, "How many of those do you have?"

"Lots. Eighteen seconds. Who sent you?" He heard the other Warden standing just behind her snicker into his hand. At least someone had a sense of humor.

"A rather taciturn fellow at the capital, Loghain I think his name was?"

His attention flicked to the group behind her. "It seems he's after you and Alistair," the dark haired woman said. Her lips pulled into a smirk.

Another name revealed. Good to know. The more information he could get from them, the better his chances of surviving were at least for a little longer. If the Crows found him, well, one thing at a time, yes?

Warden Alyssa forced his chin forward, blade in hand, commanding his full attention. "When were you going back?"

The knife glittered cold in the mid-morning light dangerously close to his face. His jaw tensed. "I wasn't." Her count down had stopped. It was a good time to take advantage. "If I succeeded I would have returned home and the Crows would have informed your Loghain of the results, if he didn't know already." When her hand left his face he lowered his head to the side and creased his brow in his best effort at looking crestfallen. "If I had failed I would be dead, or should be at least as far as the Crows are concerned. No need to see Loghain then."

He felt the Warden give him a jab with her knife. "Are you always this chatty or only on days when you're going to be murdered?"

"Think of it as something I'm throwing in for free." Zevran tried squirming back from the blade. "As it is, if you're done with the interrogation, I have a proposal if you are of a mind." He had enough dancing around the subject. If she was going to kill him, he might as well press it now.

"Andraste, give me strength." she rolled her eyes. "What do you want?"

Again he heard Warden Alistair snickering. Maybe Warden Alyssa's mercy could be leveraged. Twice now she had the chance to kill him and she chose not to. "Well, here's the thing," he began after a moment. "I failed to kill you, so my life is forfeit. That's how it works. If you don't kill me, the Crows will. However, I like living and you're obviously the sort to give the Crows pause. So let me serve you instead."

The Warden snarled, "Do you think I lost my damn mind?"

Her grip hadn't let up either and it was starting to irritate him. Time for a new tactic. He was through playing beginner's games. "I think you're royally tough to kill and utterly gorgeous." Her eyes dilated. Zevran pressed the advantage by throwing in a sheepish grin. "Not that I think you'll respond to simple flattery. There are worse things in life than serving the whims of a deadly sex goddess." He dipped his head, arching his brow.

"Well when I find one, you can serve her all you want. Right now, tell me why I should take your sorry ass with me."

The assassin noticed her grip on his neck had loosened. It felt as if she was starting to push him away instead of holding him down. Embarrassment or revulsion, it didn't matter which got her to retreat so long as he came out of this with his head intact. "I am skilled at many things from fighting to stealth and picking locks. I could also warn you should the Antivan Crows attempt something more…," he paused for a moment, thinking of the right word, "sophisticated, now that I have failed."

Warden Alyssa's hand moved down his neck. He watched her expression change as she considered his offer. The hold was now merely absent minded as considered his offer. Even her knife hand had dropped a great deal. An opening. Zevran raised his chest slightly and lowered his chin, pressing into her, "I can also stand around and look pretty if you prefer. Warm your bed? Fend off unwanted suitors, no?" He was tempted to slip his arm around her waist, but she might stab him. Not a chance he wanted to take right now.

He smiled when she started to sputter. "What?" Her eyes went wide.

When he felt her hand tremble, the assassin moved in for the kill. "See? I knew we would find a common interest, or two, or three." He moved forward and whispered in her ear, "Really, I could go all night."

"Shut your damn mouth!" A slap to the face knocked him stupid. Before he knew it, Zevran was finally on his knees after the Warden stepped away. Now his face hurt like hell. It wasn't the first time he had been slapped like that and it wouldn't be the last. At least he wasn't pinned to the wagon anymore.

Zevran touched the side of his face gingerly, sure that it would be bruised tomorrow, and watched as Warden Alyssa tried to regain what was left of her composure. It didn't mean he was safe yet. She could still turn to any one of her companions and have them finish him off. The odds, however, seemed to be in his favor.

The Warden's gaze swept across the debris littering the clearing. Her shoulders sagged as she ran a hand through her hair, exhaling deeply. "Tie him up. If he runs, let him go. If he fights, Ashfur gets fed early tonight." The knife was jammed back in the safety of its sheath.

"What?" Alistair cut in, "We're taking the assassin with us now? Are you sure that's a good idea?"

"What difference does it make?" Warden Alyssa brushed the splinters and dust from her robe. "You see who we run with. It's not like we're that fuckin' selective, so stop arguing with me." She pinched the bridge of her nose. "Gods above, I have such a headache…"

Not that he was ungrateful to be spared, but it did make him wonder what was going to happen to him. In the back of his mind the training from the Crows echoed. Being taken prisoner is the worst thing that can happen to you. He could make jokes about being tied up and tortured, but the reality of it chilled him.

"Ouch. Maybe true, but ouch," Warden Alistair shrugged. "Oh whatever, I'm sure you know best." Zevran was waiting for him to stick out his tongue after the petulant way the knight had objected.

The dark haired woman stared at him as Alistair wrapped Zevran's hands with a thick rope. Her face stony, "A fine plan, but I would examine you food and drink far more closely, were I you."

The elf smiled, "That's excellent advice for anyone." Never let them see you sweat, whether they can conjure flames or not. Alistair finished off the rope by binding the assassin's arms to his sides. He could still walk, but if they decided to be rough with him on the road it could result in a nasty fall. Zevran was guided to his feet. It relieved him to know his legs would still bare him.

Before he could voice his thanks to Alistair, no matter how calculated, Warden Alyssa was yanking him by the scruff of his neck. "I suffer no fools, elf. If I even get a whiff of you causing trouble, I'll cut off your balls and use them as earrings. Clear?"

Zevran swallowed hard, "Crystal." When she walked to the head of the group he let out a breath he almost choked on when she grabbed him.

A thud on his back made his eyes bug. "She means that," Alistair said.

Abject terror lets one forget what else surrounds them it seemed. At least Alistair was gentle, albeit firm, as he led the assassin to wherever.

Grey Warden's fought darkspawn didn't they?


	4. Honor Among Thieves

"Come and get it," Alistair's voice carried throughout the camp. Alyssa peered into the cook pot at a bubbling gray mass. Pinching the bridge of her nose she reminded herself, it's that or it's nothing. Alistair handed her a bowl with a smile. "Dig in."

"Thanks," she said. As the others were gathering around and giving the meal similar dubious looks, she thought about their prisoner. The assassin had been tied up since that afternoon. Now the sky was dark and full of stars and she still had no idea what to do with him. Anytime someone had tried to kill her, she just ran. As a Grey Warden she didn't have that option. In hindsight, taking the assassin prisoner seemed like an idiotic idea. Too late now. So far he hadn't tried to escape. Since the ambush he hadn't spoken or anything. He just followed all tied up without a single complaint. Alyssa frowned, "Did Zevran get something to eat yet?"

"Who?" Alistair asked.

"The elf we tied up this afternoon."

Alistair hooked a thumb, "Probably not. He's in the back of Bodahn's cart all done up like a Saturnalia gift. I dunno if he's plotting or sulking and frankly, I don't care. I still don't know why you dragged him with us."

She sighed, "Me neither." The Wardens looked at each other for a moment. Alyssa frowned, "What was I supposed to do? Gut him or leave him for the, uh, Crows?" She smiled weakly at the unintended pun.

"He's an assassin! He tried to kill us, remember that?" Alistair said.

"Vividly." She looked over at the elf. Zevran was leaning against a burlap bag with his legs stretched out in front of him. Ashfur had wandered over to give him a quick sniff. The dog approached him, haunches low to the ground. When the elf turned his head toward him, Ashfur whined and ducked away. After a moment he settled down a couple of feet from the cart, resting his head on his paws.

"Being hunted is a terrifying thing. No one should have to endure that." Alistair's expression softened. He squeezed her arm and handed her an extra bowl. She smiled, "You're the best."

"I know." He smiled.

When she approached Bodahn's cart, the assassin's gold eyes locked with hers. A shiver ran down her back. "I thought you might be hungry," Alyssa said.

He smirked and lifted his bound hands as far as they would go.

"Oh. Right." She bit her lip. Several moments crawled by causing a hot prickle to break out over her skin. "Scoot over." Zevran swung his legs around, letting them dangle over the edge of the cart as Alyssa hoisted herself up next to him. She kept one bowl in hand and the other at her side.

The assassin raised an eye brow when she offered a spoonful of stew.

"Deal with it or starve. I don't care which," her eyes narrowed. The prickling sensation intensified to a flush of heat under her robes. It was official. She had lost her damn mind.

Zevran looked at her askance with a smirk. To his credit he kept quiet and closed his lips over the spoon without as much as a lurid glance. The sudden grimace that followed confirmed her initial evaluation of dinner. "Did you make this?" was all he asked.

"Not even on my worst day."

He chuckled, a warm rumbling sound in his chest. She lifted another spoonful for him, which he accepted gracefully. This was the first time Alyssa was able to really look at the elf. His eyes were almond shaped. Two small braids tucked behind his ears gathered his blonde hair back from his face, on the right side of which rode three curving tattoos running from his eye to his chin. His features were exotic and strong, highlighted by olive colored skin. The curve of his jaw line softened at the neck.

Alyssa must have been lost in thought because when Zevran spoke she felt herself start at the sound, "Do I frighten you?"

Think of something clever, quick. "I was thinking we should have gagged you as well." Idiot.

"Well, aren't you the vicious little minx." He grinned. Needle sharp canines glittered in the low light.

"If I were truly vicious you'd fit in this bowl," her lip curled up into a snarl. "You want the rest? Shut up."

He winced. "I'll take my chances. I'm not even sure what that is."

She shrugged. "Alistair said it was lamb. Of course, I don't remember lamb being grey."

"Or rubbery?"

"Or greasy."

"Well, if you haven't had any yet I wouldn't advise 'digging in' as it were." He nodded to the bowl opposite her. "This could be considered cruel and unusual punishment, you know."

"Not much choice. It's this or it's nothing." Another silence settled in. The Warden shifted on the cart, feeling the hard wood pressing into her rump and irritating her tail bone. First shift would begin soon while the others got some rest. She wondered who would watch Zevran. Where would he sleep? How would he sleep? Then she remembered no one bothered to see to his wounds if he had any. She put the bowl down, "I should have asked before if you needed healing."

"Why would you ask at all? I am a prisoner," Zevran said.

"We're not monsters. We're still going to treat you like a huma…um, like a person. Are you hurt?"

"My shoulder is probably dislocated and these ropes are quite tight."

They looked at each other. Brown eyes locked with gold. Ashfur started to growl when Alyssa reached to loosen the rope. "Shhh," she soothed. "He can't stay tied up forever."

Zevran licked his lips. "Three days, sixteen hours and forty-five minutes is my record."

Knots started falling loose under her hands. "I liked you better with your mouth full." As soon as the words left her she regretted it. Alyssa slowly closed her eyes for a beat letting out a sigh. "Shut up." He smiled broadly, but said nothing.

When the ropes finally fell free he exhaled deeply and his shoulders slumped forward. Alyssa noticed his left arm dangling limp at his side. He was right, it was dislocated. She would need help putting it back in place. Zevran stretched his neck about and rolled his good shoulder. The light of the two camp fires barely reached Bodahn's cart. Even so, angry dark marks on his wrists were visible. Alistair must have been heavy handed when he tied up the elf. Healer compulsion guided her hands to his wrists and she started to massage the area to coax his circulation.

Zevran was watching her. She didn't have to look up to know that. "Do you always treat your prisoners so tenderly?"

"Should I not?" As she rubbed his wrists Alyssa could feel the fine hairs leading up his arm, the strength in the tendons, the texture that was not quite soft but not leathery either. It seemed right that his olive hued skin was warm under her fingertips.

"Compassion in these situations usually ends with a knife in someone's back."

Alyssa pushed herself off the cart. "Nobody's perfect. Come on," she gestured for him to move forward off the edge. It was his turn to narrow his eyes. The Warden sighed, "You gotta move off there at some point." Zevran hesitated for a moment longer, glancing at his left side. "I won't drop you." With a grunt he pushed himself off the cart's edge and tumbled forward. Alyssa caught him, but was forced to take a step back and steady herself since his decent was clumsy. As they made their way to the cook fire, she noticed him favoring one leg to the other.

"Maker's breath," Alistair said as they approached. "Why did you untie him?"

She rolled her eyes, "To annoy you." To Zevran, she said, "Alistair is going to hold the right side of your body still so I can pop the shoulder back into place. It'll hurt. Probably a lot. Are you ok with this?"

"Trust me, my dear," he said smoothly, "It would take a great deal of effort for you to hurt me."

Human, elf, dwarf, it really didn't matter what shape the male took because the attitude was always the same. They were oh so tough and they never needed directions. Thank the possible Maker and the probable assorted Gods she was in charge of this goon patrol, otherwise they'd all have ended up in their small clothes on a ship bound for Tevinter with tattoos on their foreheads. "Hold him."

Alistair wrapped his arms around the elf and before any smart comments were made Alyssa torqued Zevran's left shoulder back into place with a grunt and a pop. Zevran had made a sound that was half surprise, half pained, but controlled whatever it was he felt rather aptly. When Alistair let go, Zevran moved to rub his shoulder. "Don't do that." Alyssa interrupted, "You might aggravate it. If you're still in pain, let me help."

The elf grinned broadly, "Oh? How do I know this is not just some ploy to manhandle me?"

Instead of answering, Alyssa grabbed the right side of his belt and swung him around hard. A shove to the hips straightened his gait, three jabs to his rib cage set the hairline fractures correctly, hooking her leg around his followed by a yank eased the tendons in his knee, and finally with her hands on his waist the Warden pumped a jolt of magic into his spine to dull the pain. Zevran hit the ground knees first and breathing hard. "Any questions?"

"What was that?" he gasped.

"How I deal with problem patients," Alyssa said. "You're going to be dizzy for some time. Take my tent for the night."

Alistair started, "Wait. Where are you going to sleep?"

"I…," she felt the weight of the day dragging at her, "I'm not tired. I'll take watch with you and sleep under the stars."

Zevran managed to get to his feet. Alistair caught him under the arm as he swayed.

"Be gentle with him," Alyssa said. She watched Alistair help him to a tent at the far end of the camp wondering still if she had done the right thing by inviting death to dinner. The nerve numbing spell she gave in a heavy handed dose would keep him off his game until sunrise, but she wouldn't be able to drug him forever. Eventually she would have to trust him or kill him. This would not be the last of the long nights.


	5. As the Crow Flies

A bolt of fear shot through Zevran's stomach as he plunged his hand under the pillow seeking a blade that was never there. He threw himself upright only to be brought up short by a leaden feeling in his limbs. It slowly came back to him; the failed assassination and being taken prisoner. Last night's events unfolded in his mind leading Zevran to his present state. The female warden had healed his wounds and offered her tent. All through the night he slept soundly for the first time since he was child in the whorehouse. It must have been the spell she cast on him after she had wrung him out like a wet rag.

As Zevran started to feel his limbs lighten, he sat up in the tent. He had been relieved of his weapons at some point, even the ones hidden under his clothes. It was a little disconcerting to know that someone had their hands on him in such a vulnerable state, but he remembered the last words Warden Alyssa had said to the big man who carried him. "Be gentle."

Ridiculous. How could one of the last surviving wardens be a glorified bandage pack? Surely whatever gods may exist were having quite the laugh. Zevran crawled out of the tent squinting against the bright sky overhead. Another cloudless crisp morning in the land of mud and dogs. Charming.

The assassin spied Alyssa loading some of the camping equipment into the back of the dwarf's big wooden cart. She was dressed in dark blue robes with bell sleeves and fur trim around the cuffs and collar. Under this was a black cloth that hugged her body, at least what he could see of her legs and arms that brushed out from underneath. When she turned about, he noticed bright silver clasps closed down the front with a thick leather belt at her hips. Her brown knee length boots matched the belt. All in all, she was rather fetching. The robe certainly fell onto all the right places, setting off all the right curves and the cascade of brown curls that fell across her shoulders did her justice. Unfortunately she yanked her hair back with a leather strip, binding it tight away from her face. Such a shame.

Zevran leaned against the cart regarding her with narrowed eyes. "You didn't kill me."

"You didn't kill us either." Not missing a beat, Alyssa kept loading the supplies, "Funny how that worked out."

He watched her work, letting his eyes wander all over her. Now that he wasn't trying to kill her or being held at knife point, he was able to appreciate what he saw. She didn't have the same shape as most Ferelden women he encountered, in fact her hips and generous bosom were more like the Rivani people. It still fascinated him that she was slightly shorter than he. Next to Alistair the size difference was comical to say the least. Full lips were always a favorite of his and he had never seen anyone with so many freckles. For a moment he imagined how far under that black under armor they went. Brown eyes, not like ...hers. Hers were green, but they saw nothing anymore. It didn't matter. She was gone and he was here, trying to figure out what to do with himself. "Why not?" He crossed his arms.

She stopped and looked at him, "Seriously?"

What was this game she was playing? His wounds were tended, his stomach was full, he was offered a warm dry tent and his throat wasn't cut in the morning. She hadn't even asked for payment, in sovereigns or sexual favors. Not that he would mind the latter, precisely. For once he didn't have a witty retort on hand. It must be the last of the magic numbing his mind. Yes, that was it.

Alyssa finally broke the silence, "Look, Zevran. I don't know what kinds of people you're used to dealing with, but I would need a damn good reason to kill someone."

"I tried to kill you."

"Yes and you did such a good job of it too," she rolled her eyes. "You also asked for protection. So which is it? Do you want me to kill you or not?"

He shook his head, "I don't understand. If assassination does not force your hand, what does? Do only darkspawn deserve your ire?"

Her hand lingered on top of a worn blanket, worrying a frayed end that would soon become a hole if not mended. Alyssa swallowed hard. "A cage." Her fingers flexed and released several times before she spoke again. "A blade is honest. It ends things. A cage," her voice trembled, "keeps you indefinitely."

The ways of the mage. He had forgotten. Being caged would terrify her kind and yet he knew of cages as well, but did not feel as she. "Was the Circle of Magi that terrible?"

"I wouldn't know. I was never there." She piled the last of the gear onto the back of the wagon. Alyssa spoke over him, "Was there something else you wanted? If not, there's plenty for you to do besides chatting with me."

"Only to give you assurance," he said. "I promised to serve you in return for protection from the Crows. I hereby pledge my oath of loyalty to you until such a time as you choose to release me from it. I am your man, without reservation, this I swear." His speech was followed by a curt nod.

The Warden blinked. "…Ok." She shifted about on her feet. "Go wrap the tents." Alyssa waved a hand at the camp, shaking her head. His back was turned when she called to him once more, "Zevran." He tilted his head toward her. Alyssa handed him a rough leather pack. "Your things are inside, all accounted for. Please tell me if something's missing."

'Only my mind,' he thought. He kept his expression closed only offering another nod before attending to his duties about camp.

Breaking down the tents was easy enough. Really, a stiff wind could have done the job, however it kept his hands busy and his mind from buzzing so it did serve some purpose. Before long, Zevran noticed that he was not alone. Ashfur, the Mabari that laid him flat the other day, was trailing around after him while he worked. No menacing growl came from the hound, just a low whine and a tilt of the head. These dogs were known for their intelligence. Zevran wondered how smart they really were. Was he following the elf for lack of direction or was he sussing out a threat? Zevran smiled, "We have dogs in Antiva. They run in the streets and eat garbage."

Ashfur creased his brow and whimpered.

"It's true," Zevran slung a folded tent, tightly bound with ropes, over his shoulder. "They're treated like vermin mostly. Not like here in Fereldan. You're rather lucky to live here you know."

The Mabari padded after the elf as he went about his chores. "Ruff!" he wiggled his stubby tail.

They walked side by side toward the dead campfire. "Indeed," he set the tent down with a thud, sending up a puff of dry dirt. "Here they make statues of dogs. They carve you into their thrones and put armor on you. Amazing really." Zevran slipped his hand into one of the pouches in his belt withdrawing a small piece of hard cheese. He threw it to Ashfur who gobbled it up quickly.

"Arf!"

"But you still smell like a dog," Zevran winkled his nose. "In fact, you smell like several dogs."

Ashfur smiled up at him, "Woof." He panted and blinked in the sunlight.

Zevran chuckled, "Yes well. Ignorance is bliss I suppose."

* * *

"I wanted to thank you. What you did the other day was very merciful."

Alyssa blinked. She hadn't heard Leliana approach. How she was able to move about in that Chantry robe without making a sound was nothing short of spectacular. "You're welcome. What did I do?"

The sister smiled, "With Zevran. Did you forget already?"

"No. I guess I'm just a bit distracted."

Leliana put her hand on Alyssa's shoulder, drawing her full attention. "You did a good thing. Others would not have stayed their hand. He may not have yet, but I thank you for your kindness."

The mage almost blurted out ' _I didn't do it for you_ ' but thought better of it and held her tongue. If she was going to ask for help from strangers, she had to play nice with the other kids. The sentiment of Leliana's words did come across even though her Chantry association was unnerving. Yet Leliana had been nothing but sweet and helpful since they left Lothering. Not just to Alyssa, but to the whole team. Between her and the almost Templar, Alyssa felt the world was being turned on its head. "Well, I try not to cut my way through things."

"The knowledge you have of healing," Leliana said, "were you trained as a physician?"

She nodded, "My mother trained me. She said people would see that and not my magic. It was another layer of protection. No one is willing to lose a skilled healer, especially in the countryside where the nearest city is days away."

"She is a wise woman."

"Was."

Leliana lowered her head. "I'm sorry."

Alyssa nodded, slinging a burlap sack onto the cart. "Me too." Ashfur's happy barks reached their ears from the other side of camp. Both women looked over to the Mabari and the assassin. Zevran's movements were fluid, like a dance as he went about folding tents and piling them up by the fire pit. One sweep of his arm, a twist of the wrist had them bundled in seconds and propped up on his shoulder as he strode across camp. The way his muscles rippled under his skin in the morning light sent a thrill through her. No, he was too dangerous. Best to leave it alone.

"He is quite handsome, isn't he," Leliana's light voice broke Alyssa's reverie.

"Huh?" she shrugged, "Well, sure. He's tall, broad shouldered and has that knight-in-shining armor thing."

The sister laughed, "I was talking about Zevran."

She snorted, "He's a loose cannon." The Warden frowned and crossed her arm leaning against the lip of the wagon. "There's no telling what's going on in his head, handsome or not." She cocked her head at Leliana, "Hang on, why are we talking about this?"

"You were ogling him."

"I was not." A flush of heat skittered up her neck and threatened to fill her cheeks despite keeping her expression on a short leash.

"Yes you were. I saw you." From the wink and grin, it didn't seem like Leliana was buying her protest. The elf and the dog had started playing fetch once their chores were done, oblivious to the alleged ogling.

"I do not ogle."

"You did."

Alistair walked up behind Leliana. "Who did what?" He wore an unsure smile, the kind one has when walking in on the middle of a joke being told.

"Nothing," Alyssa said. "We've got everything packed except the tents. Zevran's got them piled up by the fire pit. Would you mind?"

"Got it."

Alyssa and Leliana didn't even try to hide the way they watched Alistair's hips move under the splint mail leggings he wore. He hadn't put on the chest piece yet. A simple linen shirt stretched snuggly across his shoulders giving his physique a softer look. He scooped up all five tents in his arms and shifted them about to get a better grip. The effort caused his muscles to flex against the fabric, pulling it tight against his skin. Alyssa felt her heart pumping harder as he strode back toward the wagon, dropping the tents in the back of it and dusting off his hands. "Thank you," she said. "We'll be leaving soon, so get your stuff together."

He nodded and took his leave.

"Ok, that time I was ogling."

"Me too," Leliana exhaled, "Oh Maker!"

They looked at each other and seeing the shameless desire in their eyes the sister and the Warden burst out laughing, successfully confusing everyone within earshot. Once the cart was loaded and everyone had their personal effects gathered, the team made their way up the road toward Redcliff to see Arl Eamon. Alyssa hoped Alistair was right about this noble. In her experiences the rich and powerful were nothing but trouble.


	6. Confessions of a Royal Bastard

The rusty hills of Redcliffe slowly came into view as the team lead by the Wardens made their way down the winding path. Soon they would have an audience with Arl Eamon and hopefully he would pledge his knights to their cause. Of course, this also meant that they would be discussing Loghain and his claim to the throne. That would be awkward. Alistair started to sweat through the linen tunic he wore under his splint mail. He hadn't exactly been forthright with Alyssa when he talked about his lineage and being here in Redcliffe complicated matters. He would have to tell her the whole story and soon, before someone else tipped his hand. It wasn't a conversation he was relishing to say the least, especially since she had been slow to trust him.

Alyssa had come around after they had entered Lothering. She would seek him out at camp, joke with him and her smile was just wonderful. It was like a shy spring flower opening up under the sun. Leliana was to thank for a lot of it. When the sister joined them, Alyssa was still very hesitant to speak with her traveling companions, but now with the friendly woman in tow the Warden Mage was opening up much more. Leliana had a way with people. When she spoke to you, it was obvious that she really cared just in the way she looked at you. That smile was radiant and only made more captivating by her wild red hair framing her face. He would have walked a hundred miles to hear her laugh, hold her hand, curl her hair around his fingertips.

He wiped the image from his mind. Right now, he had to decide how best to tell his fellow Grey Warden the secret that had chased his heels throughout his life. He rubbed the back of his neck and tried to think of the best way to begin. Alistair touched her shoulder, "Look, can we talk for a moment? I need to tell you something I, ah, should probably have told you earlier."

Alyssa nodded to him and waved for Leliana, Zevran and Ashfur to go on ahead. She turned back to Alistair, giving him a weak smile, "I'm not going to like this, am I?"

He scratched the side of his head, "I don't know. I doubt it. I've never liked it, that's for sure." He took a deep breath, and like pulling out a nasty splinter from the skin, Alistair spoke as quickly as possible hoping that it would lessen the shock, "I told you before how my mother was a serving girl in the castle and Arl Eamon raised me, right? The reason he did that was because, well, because my father was King Maric, which made Cailan my half-brother I suppose."

The color drained from Alyssa's face so quickly that Alistair barely had time to grab her before she passed out. He guided her to her knees, feeling her shaking. "Maker's breath! Are you alright?"

Alyssa groaned and pulled her arm away from him, trying to settle herself on the ground. Her face was ashen and it was a while before she could say anything. "Does Loghain know?" She wrapped her arms tight around her stomach.

Alistair scoffed. "Why wouldn't he? He was King Maric's best friend. I don't know if that means anything though." He pulled his round wooden shield off his back setting the lip of it on the ground in front of him. A cold ache crept into his chest and he found it harder to breath deep.

She hung her head, avoiding his eyes. "You're a prince," she said. "I can't believe you're a prince. When were you going to tell me this?"

"I would have told you sooner, but it never really meant anything to me." Alistair shrugged and let his hands fiddle with a loose piece of wood near the top of his shield. "I was inconvenient, a possible threat to Cailan's rule and so they kept me a secret. I've never talked about it to anyone."

Alyssa snorted, "A Templar and a prince. No wonder you don't trust me."

"I do trust you! You're my friend, not just another Grey Warden." No, not this, anything but this. Alistair heard this kind of thing before and it pained him to hear it from someone he admired so much. True they hadn't been together long, but the courage she had shown alone by the way she took up her Warden responsibilities in the face of a the Blight won his respect and his affection.

"I trusted you, didn't I? A Templar. No mage in their right mind does that," she glared up at him. "Do you have any idea what a risk that is? And now you're a prince. How am I supposed to know you won't throw me to the Circle when all is said and done, if we live that long?"

"Let me explain," he let his shield drop to the ground and knelt before her, desperate to make her understand. Alyssa recoiled from him as he spoke. "I'm used to not telling anyone who didn't already know. It was always a secret. Even Duncan was the only Grey Warden who knew. Then after the battle when I should have told you…," Alistair shook his head and looked away, feeling a lump in his throat, "I don't know. It seemed like it was too late by then. How do you just tell someone that?"

He heard her voice soften, "Avoiding it when it comes up is probably not a good first step."

"Yes well. I suppose part of me kind of liked you not knowing."

"I'm going to go out on a limb and assume you're not messing with me. This way I don't rupture an artery."

Alistair said, "People treat me differently. I become the bastard prince instead of just Alistair. I know that must sound stupid to you but I hate that it's shaped my entire life. I never wanted it and I certainly don't want to be king. The very idea of it terrifies me." His lip curled up into a snarl as not so distant memories of ill treatment and sycophantic behavior came to mind. "Everyone who knew either resented me for it or they coddled me. Even Duncan kept me out of the fighting because of it. I didn't want you to know as long as possible. I'm sorry."

Alyssa was silent for some time. Just before Alistair started to worry he heard her say, "My mom burst into tears when she saw me freeze a cup of milk when I was five. It took dad all day to calm her down. She didn't smile much after."

Their eyes met and they both sighed heavily, a small grin beginning to take shape for each of them. Alistair saw the tension in her shoulders ease and a tender look replaced the fear she had clearly felt when they started talking. He sent a silent prayer of thanks to the Maker.

"I hope you're not waiting for me to call you Prince Alistair," Alyssa said.

"No! Maker's breath, just hearing that gives me a heart attack." Relief flooded him when she started to laugh. "For what it's worth, I'm sorry for not telling you sooner. I guess I was just hoping that you would like me for who I am. It was a dumb thing to do."

"I do like you and not because of your lineage." She squeezed his sword arm, letting her hand trail down to his wrist.

"Oh, I… Oh. You see, I didn't know that." He felt, well he wasn't really sure what he felt to be honest. For a moment Alistair was hoping that Leliana wasn't watching from a distance, but he was glad that Alyssa seemed to be feeling better about the whole royal thing. "I guess it's kind of relief that you know now."

Alistair stood up and slung his shield onto his back. He offered a hand to Alyssa, helping her to her feet. "So there you have it. Now can we move on and I'll just pretend you still think I'm some nobody who was too lucky to die with the rest of the Grey Wardens."

Alyssa grinned, "What's that make me I wonder?"

"The reason why I say I was lucky." He smiled, raising his hand to let her walk ahead of him down the path to the bridge where Zevran, Leliana and Ashfur waited.


	7. The Trouble with Nobles

Zevran sheathed his twin daggers and scowled at the guards that lay at his feet. Warden Alyssa ordered them to hold their lethal force for any human they encountered on the off chance that they could be saved. The animated corpses were fair game, but it was still an effort to incapacitate instead of kill. However, he made an oath and would obey. They made their way through the castle dispatching many of the undead. When the Wardens reached the main hall, Isolde and Bann Teagan were with a young boy, he assumed to be Connor, and several castle guards.

No killing then. Pity.

The team was able to overcome the few men that were gathered there, ending the fight in a matter of minutes. With his blades sheathed, he gave the guard at his feet one last kick to the gut, just because. Zevran turned his attention to the noble woman sniveling under Warden Alyssa's cold glare.

"Please," Isolde whimpered, "Conner's not responsible for this. There must be some way we can save him!"

"You knew," Alyssa said coldly. "You knew the whole damn time." The mage once again had little tongues of flame dancing about her shoulders just as she had when Zevran first met her. Ah the good old days. He suddenly wished he had a snack on hand to go with the entertainment.

Isolde ducked her head. At least she had the good graces to look ashamed, fleeting though it was. "I…Yes, I didn't tell you because I believed we could help him. I still do."

"You can believe the clouds are made of spun sugar, but that doesn't make it true." Alyssa sneered at her, "That boy is an abomination. It's why you people lock mages away, out of fear of us becoming just like your son."

Bann Teagan said, "I do not know if we can save him. Demons do not listen to reason." He placed a hand on Isolde's shoulder only to have her shrink from his touch.

"He is not always the demon you saw. Connor is still inside him and sometimes he breaks through. Please, I just want to protect him!" Isolde's eyes were wide as she pleaded with Teagan and Alyssa.

"Isn't that what started this?" Teagan said sharply. "You hired the mage to teach Conner in secret, to protect him." It was obvious how Alyssa felt about it, but to hear Connor's uncle snap at Isolde was very interesting.

Now it was the noble lady's turn to raise her voice, "If they discovered Connor had magic then they'd take him away! I thought if he learned just enough to hide it, then…"

Alyssa said, "And because you have power and money to hide behind, who would question it?" The grip on her staff turned her knuckles white and the bits of flame grew stronger, more opaque. Zevran glanced quickly at Leliana and Alistair, noticing their tension growing with his as Alyssa's hold on her temper started to slip. "Never mind all those you put at risk. Never mind the children whose parents are too poor to buy them protection from the Templars. Do you even know how many died last night? Do you care how many, child and parent alike, were dragged off into the darkness by walking corpses?"

"Of course I care. I'm no monster," Isolde said.

"Just a liar and a hypocrite. That's so much better!" Alyssa slammed the bottom of the staff into one of the flagstones, cracking it under the strength of her fury. Everyone in the room jumped back from her, shielding their faces, except for Alistair. He reached for her, risking the flames and grabbed her arm. The fire ceased as quickly as it formed leaving him unharmed. Not even a singe marked his leather glove, much to Zevran's astonishment. Now why would that be? Either the girl must have amazing control or the flames were just for show. In any case, it was a fantastic scare tactic. Zevran heard Isolde speak. Apparently the noble woman had found her voice once again.

"How dare you, mage!" Isolde said.

Alyssa ignored her, "Where did it go?"

"I think Connor ran upstairs to the family quarters," Bann Teagan replied. He turned to Isolde. "Did Eamon know nothing of your plans?"

"He would only demand we do the right thing." She scowled, her face reddening, "I was not going to lose my son! Not to...to magic!" Isolde spat the last word at Alyssa with eye narrowed to slits.

"Handle it on your own. I have a Blight to stop." Alyssa waved off Isolde, striding down the hall leading out of the keep.

Alistair followed, "Alyssa! We can't just leave them like this."

"Why not? She didn't want to lose that thing to magic, why should magic save it?"

"He's not a thing, Alyssa, he's a little boy!"

Isolde ran after them, "Please! I should be punished, not Connor. There must be something we can do."

"There is. We can leave." She didn't even do her the courtesy of turning around. Such a cold display caused a grin tug at Zevran's lips.

Isolde wasn't about to let up. Again she shouted at the Warden, which was quite stupid when one thought about it. "You would just walk away? How could you?" she yelled. Fereldans were an interesting lot. Asking sweetly at first and then bullying when they didn't get their way. Zevran preferred a more direct route. See, want, take, very simple. Then again, nothing in this strange country was proving to be simple. Alyssa turned on Isolde.

"My parents died protecting me because cowardly nobles like you refuse to stand up for what is right." She pushed Isolde with her free hand as she spoke, driving the woman back into the main hall, eyes glittering with anger and limbs wreathed in flames once again. "You kowtow to the Chantry and hide your mage whelps behind walls of gold and titles, while good people like my parents get put to the sword for the very thing you fear. They didn't want their child taken from them either. Instead of banding together to find a better way you just cast your subjects' children into the arms of butchers and dungeon keepers, because it's easier than seeing your own brood caged."

"What would to take for you to consider helping Connor?"

"There is nothing you have that I could possibly want."

Isolde squared her shoulders, "My family is powerful and wealthy. If you can save my son, I would give you anything in return."

"Anything?" The flames vanished, but Zevran noticed the eerie calm that washed over the Warden. Leliana and Alistair must have felt it too. She stepped closer to Zevran as Alistair advanced toward Alyssa. Zevran knew Alyssa was baiting Isolde, and the fool walked right into it.

"Name your price." She was the noble lady once more. There was no mistaking that gleam of power in her eye, the one that said 'I can buy you,' and she was right. Everyone had their price; prince and pauper and all in between. It was just a matter of degree. Isolde stood tall, looking directly at Alyssa. Zevran watched them with bated breath.

The mage leaned in close and said in a soft, calm voice, "I want my mother back you self-righteous bitch." Alyssa turned on her heel, dark blue robe sweeping dramatically behind her and headed for the door with Alistair chasing after her. Zevran watched her, lowering his head with a smile spreading across his face. This magical Grey Warden did not disappoint.

_________________________________________________________

 

That arrogant, self-absorbed whore was insane if she thought for a red hot second Alyssa was going to help her and her demon brat now. The miasma of flames kindled anew around her shoulders, but she was keenly aware of Alistair lumbering behind her. His sword clanked against each step as he chased her down the stairs to the courtyard.

"You can't be serious!" he said

"I am," she kept walking. If he reached for her again, she would have to pull back her rage so he wouldn't get hurt. Irritating. She just wanted to be good and mad for a while, not have big brother hold her and say everything's going to be ok. Alyssa forced herself to calm down, just in case.

"We have to help them. I know you dislike Isolde—"

He didn't just go there. "Dislike?" She stopped cold and faced him. "What I dislike is getting up before dawn or finding holes in my underwear. This cuts further than dislike. What about how she treated you as a boy? When we met her by the windmill she looked at you like you were worth less than dirt and you still want to help this shrew?" Even though she was wound up, the confusion she felt from Alistair's insistence interrupted her anger and caused the flames to vanish.

"Don't do it for her. Do it for Eamon, for Connor, for the men he can supply if he…when he wakes up."

"He's not the only army in Ferelden. We still have the elves, the dwarves, the Circle of Magi, and we can probably scare up most of the people rebelling against Loghain. Nothing is worth this grief."

"For me then? Would you do it for me?"

Alyssa's breath caught. That wasn't fair. How was she supposed to defend against big brown eyes, soft pouting lips and the 'you kicked my puppy' face of the big handsome guy in front of her, practically begging a chubby little mage girl for help. A weight settled in her chest and her shoulders sagged. She knew this was going to come back to haunt her. Alyssa rubbed her face before saying, "Stick it right in my heart, why don't you."

"Is that a yes?" Followed by a charming smile. This guy wasn't pulling his punches.

She nodded. "We'll need help. I hear the Circle of Magi is lovely this time of year."


	8. Camping by Lake Calenhad

Sten and Morrigan were the only two of the team not lounging by the campfire after dinner, mercifully made by Leliana this time. Even Ashfur was with them, serving as a gigantic pillow for Zevran's back. He stretched out his legs and let the warm glow from the fire coax him into a comfortably drowsy state. After that nasty business in Redcliffe, Alyssa suggested they take a night off and camp early. With Bodahn's stocks replenished and fresh food and water on hand there was really no reason why they couldn't relax before heading off to the Circle of Magi.

Something was going on between the sister and the Mage Warden. Since they finished setting up, the two women had been giggling with each other, and with the dog barking almost nonstop, Zevran's elven ears could only pick up so much. It was right after Alistair joined them that Leliana announced a game they would be playing.

"What are the rules?" Alistair settled himself next to Zevran and across from the two women.

Leliana grinned, "You have the option of choosing to tell the truth about a question asked or perform a challenge that is proposed."

"But if you hear the question and don't want answer, you can do the challenge." Alyssa said, "And vice versa."

"But you have to drink," Leliana added.

Alistair's brow creased, "What if the question is no better than the challenge?"

Alyssa said, "You can pass if it's something you don't feel comfortable with."

"But you have to drink," Leliana said.

Alyssa smiled at her and nodded. She continued explaining the rules. "If you go with the question, you have to tell the truth. You don't have to tell everything, but what you say needs to be true."

"Or you drink," Leliana said. By now her grin reached ear to ear mirrored by the one Zevran was wearing. She seemed unusually bubbly this evening. He wondered if she had a bottle of her own stashed away and how he could relieve her of it.

"The last person to answer or act gets to pick the next vict...I mean player," Alyssa said. She pursed her lips and looked askance toward the sky trying her best to look sweet and innocent.

Once again the sister reminded them, "And if someone picks you, you drink."

She laughed, "This is gonna go downhill really fast, isn't it?"

"That's the fun of it!"

By the look on Alistair's face, he wasn't convinced, but seeing the two of them so full of mirth, especially after dealing with demons and corpses, forced a smile out of him. Zevran felt exactly the same. It was good to see. "Who came up with this game?" Alistair asked.

Alyssa said, "I played it when I was a kid in this backwater village where dad and I hid for a summer. Leliana added the drinking part."

"That makes it more interesting," Leliana said.

Alistair asked, "What are we going to drink? We're not exactly carrying any alcohol with us." When Zevran started grinning wickedly, his little canines glinting in the firelight, Alistair narrowed his eyes and asked accusingly, "What did you do?"

Zevran reached behind the Mabari and pulled out two dark green clay bottles with cork stoppers, one in each hand. "Since Alyssa so graciously agreed to help Lady Isolde and her boy, and she did offer anything in return for his life, I thought it only fair to 'liberate' a few of the Arl's finest as we made our way out."

"You stole from the Arl!" Alistair tried to grab the bottles from him, but Zevran pulled them out of reach.

"Think of it as a security deposit." The rogue smiled, "Besides if I really wanted anything of value, they were not lacking in luxuries, I assure you."

Alistair turned his head to Alyssa, "And you just let him get away with this?"

Leliana chimed in, "You're asking a lot of questions. Have we started playing yet?"

"Alistair, calm down." Alyssa waved at the ex-Templar, "Demons are incredibly distracting. The nobles won't miss a few bottles of wine with an Abomination running about the keep."

"Fine, we'll start playing." Alistair pointed from Zevran to Alyssa and ordered, "Pour her a cup, I want the first question." He scowled while Zevran played barkeep.

Zevran pulled the stopper out, passing the open neck of it under his nose and breathing deeply. He sighed and fluttered his eyelids closed, "Marvelous." Alyssa handed her cup to him which was generously filled. Settling back against the dog, he watched as Alistair shifted about to sit more comfortably on the ground. Alyssa accepted the cup, grasping it with her palm over the top. It was an odd way to handle it.

When she finished a mouthful of the wine, Alistair asked, "Why did you let Zevran roam free in the castle, taking whatever he pleased?"

Leliana said, "You didn't give her a choice of question or challenge."

Alyssa patted Leliana's knee before answering. "My father had to feed us both. Doing that while trying to hide from the Chantry and the Templars wasn't easy and the villagers had barely enough to take care of themselves. We traded work for food and shelter. Sometimes there was only one or the other. That meant, when we would come close to a larger town or a market place, dad wasn't above slipping things into his pocket."

"But stealing is wrong!" Alistair insisted.

Zevran watched Alyssa's face as she paused before answering. Truly, her eyes were the window to her soul. He saw several flashes of emotion play out, but to the victor go the spoils and with her fellow Warden, the softer approach always seemed to win out. She said, "A lot of things are wrong, but you do what you have to in order to survive. I know your Chantry upbringing wasn't a walk in the garden, but I'll bet you never went to bed hungry. And you had a safe place to sleep." She looked away, "Sometimes we do things we're not proud of because it's that or death."

Zevran looked down at his boots. How different his life would have been if someone had been looking out for him. Maybe he wouldn't have joined the Crows or maybe he would be dead. Who knew? It was a comforting thought that Alyssa was familiar with some of the harsher sides of life and didn't look down on those who had few options. Perhaps he wasn't in such different company as he had assumed. Zevran approved.

"I'm sorry. I didn't know." Alistair's righteousness had subsided. From the way he couldn't meet her eyes, Zevran assumed that he felt a bit ashamed of what he had said. Nevertheless, the assassin didn't expect him to know much more than the ways of the Chantry. Time spent in the real world would be good for him.

Alyssa shrugged, "I never said anything. How would you? Ok my turn!" She looked around the camp. "Hey, Morrigan! Why don't you come and join us?"

Morrigan pulled her nose out of a leather bound tome long enough to roll her eyes at them, "'Tis not a game I find interesting in the least. If you all wish to be childish, do so without me."

"Party pooper." Alyssa looked at each of her companions in turn before settling. "Zevran, question or challenge?"

"I think I will choose the question," he smiled. "It is still early, yes?"

"Drink," Leliana said.

He was ready for this. One of the clay bottles was filled only with water and it was this one he poured for himself. Zevran was not so eager to let his guard drop in front of the others. He may have been spared for now, but that did't mean he would be seen as useful in the future. Putting the clay cup to his lips, the assassin drank deeply.

When he lowered his cup, Alyssa asked her question. "Care to tell us a little about Antiva?"

"Oh? You wish to know about Antiva do you?" He leaned forward, eyes reflecting the firelight, "The only way to truly appreciate it would be to go there. It is a warm place, not cold and harsh like this Ferelden. In Antiva it rains often but the flowers are always in bloom. Or so the saying goes."

"Not a fan of Ferelden I take it," Alistair smirked.

He inclined his head to the side and shrugged, "It has its charm with its mud and its dogs. The people are spirited, even if they can't tell the difference between an assassin and a mere killer." Zevran smiled broadly, "I hail from the glorious Antiva City, home to the royal palace. It is a glittering gem amidst the sand, my Antiva City." He sighed wistfully as he described the city, conjuring vivid images of winding streets, colorful blossoms spilling out of every window box, and tempting smells of coffee and smoked meats teasing the appetite. A pang of longing filled him, knowing that he could never go back, at least not while the Crows hunted him. "You know what is most odd? We speak of my homeland and for all its wine and its dark haired beauties and the Lillo flutes of the minstrels; I miss the leather the most."

Alistair, Leliana and Alyssa looked at each other with raised eye brows and bemused expressions. "Ok I'll bite," Alyssa said, "Is that a euphemism, or what?"

Zevran laughed, "It may as well be! But not this once, no." As he explained, he touched his thumb to his fingers and made a circular motion with his hand, "I mean the smell. For years I lived in a tiny apartment near Antiva City's leather making district, in a building where the Crows stored their youngest recruits. Packed in like crates. I grew accustomed to the stench, even though the humans complained of it constantly. To this day the smell of fresh leather is what reminds me most of home more than anything else."

The Warden gave him a gentle look usually reserved for her brother in arms. "You sound a little homesick." He noticed a tenderness to her voice.

"It is my first time away from Antiva. The thought of never returning makes me think of it constantly." He looked into his cup, feeling at ease for the first time in his life. What was the harm in sharing a little more? "Before I left I was tempted to spend what little coin I possessed on leather boots I spotted in a store window. Finest Antivan leather, perfect craftsmanship. Ah but I was a fool to leave them." He leaned back on the Mabari.

"What happened?"

"I thought, 'Ah Zevran you can buy them when you return as a reward for a job well done.' More the fool I, no?" He shouldn't have said so much. Now there was heaviness in his chest that he'd rather push away. Thinking of Antiva had put him in a somber mood of sorts.

"Your home is still there, Zevran. Boots and all." When he looked up from his water masquerading as wine, Alyssa was smiling at him for the first time ever. She couldn't be so stupid as to let her guard down in front of the man sent to kill her, could she? There's no way he could have been forgiven so quickly, if at all. He must be imagining things. Maybe he pulled the wrong bottle after all.

"True and it's a comforting thought." Being scrutinized was making him uncomfortable so he decided to turn the tables, "One simply never knows what is to come next. How could I have suspected I would end up defeated by a beautiful Grey Warden, a woman who then spares my life? I could not."

"Oh here we go. You just can't resist, can you?" she rolled her eyes.

"I say you are beautiful because it is true. Should I not?"

Alyssa rubbed the side of her head and couldn't look up from her crossed legs, "Just take your turn already. For cryin' out loud."

Zevran pursed his lips in a grin, but ultimately let it go. The point was to shift focus off him, not to make her uncomfortable, at least not unless it behooved him. Although, she was rather cute when she was bashful. In any case, he decided Leliana would be a good choice for his turn. "Leliana, question or challenge?"

She poured for herself. It was quick, but Zevran's keen eyes caught the action even in the gloom of the night. The sister covered the opening with her thumb so none of the vintage entered her cup. Before answering, she pretended to drink from it though it was empty. Very interesting. What would the Chantry sister be hiding? She could have just refused the drink herself, but it was she who was so enthusiastic about introducing wine to the game in the first place.

"Question, please."

"How long were you in that cloister my dear woman?"

"Just over two years."

"And…and all the brothers and sister there, they had taken vows?"

"Most of them, yes. That's two questions already. Don't try to cheat," she wagged a finger at him.

He opened his hands, "I haven't asked anything of substance yet."

Alyssa chimed in, "Well cut to the chase. You're not allowed to stall."

"Drink," Leliana pointed to his cup.

"What for?"

"Stalling," Leliana and Alyssa said together.

Zevran shook his head but did as he was told. It would be a miracle if he could make it to the end of the game before his bladder burst with all this damn drinking, even if it was just water. "So for two years you had no contact with anyone except men and women who were promised to an uncaring god?"

"What are you getting at?"

"Didn't you…," he stumbled over his words, completely dumbstruck that anyone could go that long without seeking the pleasure of another, "didn't you desire companionship during those two years? Two years! The very thought makes me weak."

When she spoke of her time in the Chantry all the girlish glee left fer face, replaced now by the devout sister demeanor. "My time in the cloister was a time of contemplation. I occupied myself with thoughts of the Maker and other worthy pursuits, but like I said most of the brothers and sisters had taken vows. Not all of them. Some were just affirmed, like me."

"Ah ha! That is not so bad then."

"Nothing happened, Zevran. It would not be right to engage in that behavior in the House devoted to the Maker."

"Why?" he asked. "The Maker made us who we are. He made our urges, he gave us these parts. You think he made them for looks?" He wasn't sure that coaxing others to get drunk off their asses was any less of a sin in the Maker's eyes, but if she wanted to lie to herself that was her business.

"That was the most roundabout way I have ever heard someone ask 'have you been laid recently'." Alyssa shook her head slowly and chuckled.

Leliana smirked, "Ok, my turn. Um… Alistair! Question or challenge?"

He took a drink from his cup. "Question, please."

Leliana pouted, "This isn't very fun. No one is taking the challenges."

"I don't think we've had enough wine yet," Alyssa said. She was doodling in the dirt with a bit of stick. "Why? What was your challenge?"

"I was going to have him kiss you." At this Alyssa's eyes flew open even though she didn't look up from her drawing. Zevran heard Alistair gasp in surprise but didn't get a chance to say anything before Leliana continued, "In any case, Alistair, tell me about something embarrassing about yourself."

Now things were getting interesting.

Alistair had to think for a moment before he took a drink from the mug, draining about half of it. "I got one. Remember how we went through the Arl's cellar to get to the keep? When I was a boy I was playing there. I saw a cage all rusted out and tipped on its side. I climbed into it and pulled the door closed, but I didn't realize it had locked. Spent the whole night and part of the next day in there before they finally found me."

"Oh you poor dear! Didn't anyone think to look for you?" she said.

"I slept in the stables. I don't think anyone noticed or cared I was missing."

Leliana looked like she wanted to scoot across and sit beside him, but she made no move to rise. Interesting, but not surprising. The Chantry types tended to stick to each other rather easily.

Many questions were asked that night, for no one was really brave enough to take the challenge, except for Zevran. From the way they kept forgetting to offer the choice he assumed one of two things were in play. They wanted to get to know each other little better or they were afraid of what the challenges might be, especially coming from him. However, Alyssa did challenge him to sing 'I'm a Little Tea Pot' along with the dance.

Zevran frowned, "Why is it these challenges never involve doing things with your lips?"

"You'll be singing," Alyssa chuckled. "That's doing things with your lips."

"Not what I had in mind, but have it your way. I'm a little tea pot, short and stout…" He was nothing if not a good sport and the way Alyssa fell over laughing made it all worthwhile. It helped that his emphasis on the words made it sound much dirtier than it should have.

During the course of the game they drained three bottles of wine, although he and Leliana were using sleight of hand tricks to keep from getting drunk. Zevran was amazed that the little mage was still sober yet Alistair was clearly feeling the drink by the way he slurred his words and gazed over at Leliana. It was Alyssa's turn to ask this time. "Alistair, challenge or question?"

Raising his cup, Alistair said, "I'm choose questing…questionings, please." He giggled into his mug, snorting the wine and tilting to the side where he sat.

Alyssa covered her face with her free hand and laughed, "I can't believe I'm asking this. So you were raised in the Chantry right? Did you ever…you know?"

A sly grin crept across his face, "Ever? Ever What? Had a good pair of shoes?"

Zevran didn't need light to see that Alyssa was blushing. The smirk, the way she couldn't look at any of them, the apples of her cheeks scrunching so tight her face must have started to hurt. "Oh come on. You know exactly what I mean," she said.

"I'm not sure I do?" It seemed that Alistair was enjoying making her squirm. Zevran was enjoying it to, very much so. "Have I never seen a basilisk? Ate jellied ham? Have I never licked a lamppost in winter?"

"Stop making fun of me." She and Leliana couldn't stop giggling.

Alistair put his hand to his heart in mock sincerity. "Make fun of you dear lady, perish the thought." They all laughed. The ex-Templar was very handsome when he let himself relax. Strong shoulders, deep warm laugh and a smile that was truly radiant. Shame, really, that the Chantry ways were so ingrained in him. Alistair continued, "Well tell me. Have you ever licked a lamppost in winter?"

Now everyone was curious to see what their fearless leader was going to say. Zevran's ears pricked up. "Why yes, I've licked a lamppost in winter!" Alyssa finally responded after a moment of stalling. So she was a woman after all. Good to know. Zevran smiled as the game continued.

"Just the once?" Alistair said, "And you didn't lose half of your tongue in the process? I'm impressed." He looked askance for a moment. "I myself have never had the pleasure. Not that I haven't thought of it, of course, but, you know…"

Leliana was gazing over at him, leaning forward over her knees. "Was there no young lady that you fancied?"

He shrugged a little and couldn't look up, "Well living in the Chantry is not exactly a life for rambunctious boys. They taught me to be a gentleman, especially in the presence of beautiful women such as yourselves." He indicated Alyssa and Leliana with his cup.

"You," Alistair hesitated, his eyes flicking over to Leliana and then back to the ground, "You'd want a gentleman to court you, I mean, if you were to be courted…"

Zevran watched Alyssa's face. He already knew by Leliana's body language that evening that she desired the ex-Templar, but something in the mage's face told him this was not an answer Alyssa wanted to hear. Maybe it was time for another deflection. "So let me get this straight, my dear Alistair," Zevran said, "You have never wooed. Not once? You are woo-less, as it were?"

"You're breaking the rules again, Zevran. Drink," Leliana sighed and narrowed her eyes.

It was the mothering tone that got to him and considering that she too was cheating, Zevran decided to mention it. "Then you would have to put away a full bottle yourself, my dear. Each time you pour, your thumb finds its way over the opening."

"What?" Alistair sat up straight, his jaw dropping.

"I… that's not true!"

Zevran grabbed her cup from its place on the ground and upended it and not a single drop fell out.

Alyssa's eyebrows rose, "Well that explains a lot."

"You're just as guilty," she said. "You magically remove the alcohol every time Zevran fills your cup." So that's why she took the cup by its top. Clever girl.

"Well he's been drinking water the whole time!"

Alistair yelled over their squabbling, "So I'm the only idiot here who's actually been playing fair? Are you kidding me?" He got to his feet swaying dangerously. Had he been wearing anything heavier than his linen shirt and leather leggings, Alistair would have landed back on his rump in an instant. Alyssa jumped up to steady him but he batted her hands away. "I expected better from you, you know."

"I'm sorry, Alistair—"

"No I don't want to hear it," he held up his hand. "I trusted you enough to tell you about my blood line and you can't even give me the same courtesy? It's not right, Alyssa."

"Everything I've said tonight was true."

"After sneaking out the strength of the wine. How am I supposed to believe you?"

"Ask me anything, I won't lie. I haven't lied!"

"Why were you on that roof?"

The question hung between the Wardens. Leliana and Zevran exchanged nervous looks. Alyssa stared at the ground, her hands clenching and unclenching. There was no diversion big enough that could get her out of this now unless she flat out refused to answer him. Zevran was surprised when Alyssa passed her cup to him. He filled it and this time she took it by the sides and drank the contents entirely. Again she held the cup to him and again she drank it dry. "Sit."

The Wardens sat back down. From the frown and the crease in his brow, Zevran imagined Alistair had burnt out his indignation when he saw how much the question affected his sister-in-arms. "Dad and I went Gwaren to refill our medical supplies," Alyssa began, the tightness in her jaw giving her voice a flat sound. "We never had enough money, so we did it the old fashioned way. I hung about, playing the lost lamb while he cut purses. It was fine until Lord Bennet caught him. He called the city guard. They beat my father to death in front of me."

Zevran winced. Leliana covered her mouth and Alistair closed his eyes and swallowed hard.

"When they finally...finished, the guards were dragging me off to the prisons. Bennet stopped them. He said they could keep the purse that was stolen if he could have me." She closed her eyes. Zevran saw her hands start to shake. He wanted to tell her it was ok to stop, but he was so curious about what happened that words failed him.

Alyssa found the strength to continue. "You've seen what happens when I get mad. I have trouble controlling the heat, but this time...this time I was scared, not angry. I scowled at him and said I'd rather be put to the sword. He just laughed. He grabbed my hair, leaned in close enough so I could smell the rotting sweet breads off his breath and whispered 'The Circle will not have you. You shall live in my cage, little fox, and you'll beg for death before the end of it.'"

"Stop," Alistair said. He was blinking away tears that clouded his eyes. "Don't say anymore."

She shrugged and gently touched his knee. "I'm sorry. You wanted to know."

"I don't anymore." He reached over and pulled her into a hug, ran his fingers through her hair and kissed the top of her head. "Not unless you tell me that he burst into flames right then and there." A muffled sentence came from her. "What?" he let go.

Alyssa gasped a bit, "I said 'Your shirt is in my mouth.'" They all started chuckling, glad for the release in tension. She rubbed Alistair's arm, "I'm still here. Even after all that. I'm still here."

Zevran sighed contentedly, but the smile soon faded from his face. Alistair had said she was on a roof, which means she must have been dragged back to the lord's estate. Whatever was done to her drove her up there. Did she fall? Was she pushed? He doubted very much that she would tell him anything that sensitive, but the game did do one thing that night. It allowed him to see past the Warden, past the leader and into the woman behind the labels. Maybe getting caught was not so bad after all.


	9. You Think You Know Someone

The Circle was in chaos and overrun by abominations. Through sheer stubbornness, and nothing short of a miracle, her team managed to kill Uldred and save First Enchanter Irving. Wynne, the mage she had met briefly in King Cailan's camp, had joined them in the tower which made keeping the party healed much easier. That was all well and good, but the business with Cullen was completely unnerving.

Irving and the team made it back to the main hall of the tower where Knight Commander Greagoir was waiting. He seemed genuinely relieved that Irving was alright and then Cullen had to open is big mouth and cause trouble where there wasn't any.

"Uldred tortured these mages hoping to break their wills and turn them into abominations. We don't know how many of them have turned." Cullen was practically shouting in the Knight Commander's face.

Irving glared at him, "What? Don't be ridiculous."

"Of course he'll say that! He might be a blood mage! Don't you know what they did? I won't let this happen again! They may have demons within them lying dormant. Lying in wait."

"Don't you think that sounds a little paranoid?" Alyssa said, "You can't just kill every circle mage because you have a hunch."

"Apostates aren't given the same benefit of doubt!" He drew his sword and lunged at her, but before he could lay the killing blow the sound of metal on metal rang through the hall. Zevran had leapt between them and blocked Cullin's sword with his twin daggers. Alyssa stared open mouthed at the assassin.

"Enough!" the Knight Commander yelled, "Tell your man to stand down!"

Alyssa narrowed her eyes and snarled. "Call off your dog and he will."

Greagoir dug his nails into Cullen's arm and growled low in his ear, "I am the Knight Commander here, not you. Lower your damn sword." Cullen stepped back and Zevran did likewise, but kept himself between the mage and the Templar. "She is a Grey Warden. If you can't show respect then you damn well better show some iota of intelligence!" The Templar sheathed his sword and stepped back, glaring at the elf and the Warden.

Zevran stood in front of Alyssa, so close she could feel the heat of his body, smell his armor. It smelled like him, oil and warmth, spices and musk. She curled the fingers of her free hand around his belt. She was shaking, but she didn't want to let the Templar have the satisfaction of seeing her rattled. Feeling the leather under her hands, something solid and strong, grounded her. Alyssa breathed in deeply and felt the calm wash over her, not questioning why, just embracing the fact that it was.

"Irving," she said, "Arl Eamon's son needs your help. He's possessed by a demon." Talk about sucking all the air out of the room. The three men stared past Zevran at her, realizing what she was asking.

"Killing the demon would mean killing the child," Irving said. He rubbed his chin. "We may be able to help, but it will take a lot of lyrium and several mages." He nodded, "We will at least try. After all, you did not abandon us when we needed aid."

"I'll also need the mages help against the blight."

"You will have it."

Wynne said, "Irving, I have a request. I seek to follow the Grey Warden."

"Wynne," he frowned, "we need you here. The Circle needs you."

"I appreciate the sentiment, Irving, but this Circle will do fine without me. This woman is capable of great things and if she will have me, I will help her accomplish her goals,"

It was with a heavy heart that Irving let her, "You were never one to stay in the tower when there was adventure to be had. I give you leave to follow the Grey Warden, but know that you will always have a place here."

You mean a cage here, Alyssa thought bitterly. The sooner they were rid of this place the better.

"Thank you, Irving," she said. Wynne nodded to Alyssa and followed her, Zevran and Sten back to the mainland.

It was only when the boat reached the dock that Alyssa felt like she could breathe without burden. Alistair and the others were waiting for the team to return. He rushed over to her, "Are you alright? You look upset."

She glanced at Zevran, but he made no indication that he heard Alistair. Instead he started chatting up Wynne, something about a bosom. "Cullen, I don't know if you know him." Alistair shook his head. Alyssa swallowed hard, "He tried to kill me, but Zevran, he…he saved me."

Alistair lowered his chin, "Zevran. Our Zevran? That Zevran?" He pointed to the elf.

She nodded.

"Just making sure."

"He jumped between us. I didn't even see it coming." She rubbed her forehead. "It would have been over in seconds. Everything we've been trying to do would have been completely unraveled."

Alistair pushed a tangle from her face, "Are you alright to head back to Redcliffe? We can stay here at the inn if you need to."

She smiled, "I'm fine, Alistair. Thank you. We should press on. I don't want Bann Teagan to wait longer than he has to."

___________________________________________________________________

 

The team was on the road to Redcliffe when Zevran heard someone call him. "I owe you an apology." Alistair was walking alongside him and smiling. Sten and Morrigan walked ahead everyone else, Leliana and Wynne just behind them and Alistair, who had hung back to let Zevran catch up. Alyssa was near the back of the pack with Ashfur, Sandal and Bodahn in tow.

Alistair chatting him up was completely unexpected. "Me? What for?" Zevran asked.

"For protecting Alyssa. I don't know why you did, but I'm glad of it. I realize now that I underestimated you. I'm sorry."

Under the gaze of this smiling oaf, Zevran felt heat creep up the back of his neck. He couldn't look Alistair in the eye when he replied, "I owe her a blood debt and you Wardens are the only thing between me and the Crows. It serves me to make sure you live."

"Of course it does."

He wasn't about to let the Warden control this conversation. "You know I could just be trying to impress you, my dear Alistair." Pieces set.

"How'd you mean?"

Rook takes pawn. "A handsome young man like you must stoke the passions of women and men alike."

"I…what?" Alistair's cheeks flushed with color.

Rook takes Bishop. "How do you know that my new found loyalty isn't some master plan to lure you into my tent some chilly night?"

"Your... your tent?" he stuttered. "You're having me on."

Rook takes Queen. "I might be, I might not be, but I assure you the massage techniques I have learned are enough to alight the desires of even the most chaste of men."

Checkmate.

Alistair blanched, "I, I'm going to stand over here now!" He scurried over to Leliana and Wynne as fast as he could move in all of that armor, which was pretty fast considering.

Zevran rolled his eyes.

"Stop confusing my Warden in tarnished platemail."

He turned his head, "My dear Alyssa." Zevran grinned broadly, surprised at just how glad he was to see her. "I have a question, if I may?" Since Alistair brought it up, Zevran was thinking more about the oath he had sworn to Alyssa and what that meant to her.

Alyssa shrugged, "Sure."

"Well, here's the thing. I swore an oath to serve you, yes? And I understand the quest you're on and this is all very fine and well. My question pertains to what you intend to do with me once this business is over with, as a point of curiosity."

"Do with you?" she laughed. "What are you? Luggage?"

"Oh I imply nothing specific of course. One simply assumes that once your Grey Warden business is finished you would have no need of an assassin to follow you about. Am I wrong?"

Alyssa cringed, "This whole serving thing, I don't feel comfortable with that."

"What should I call it then?"

"I mean...it's just," She paused. Running her hand through her hair, she sighed heavily, "Look, can we start over?"

The assassin cocked his eyebrow. "Do you want me to try to kill you again? Believe me, I had my fill the first time."

"You're gonna drive me to drink, you know that," Alyssa laughed. "I mean I don't want you swearing an oath to me or anyone. It's enough that I have play pied piper on this ridiculous quest. I can't handle," she gestured with her hand between the two of them, "this as well."

Zevran felt his stomach twist and struggled to keep his face stoic as he stared head, "Do you not wish for me to stay then?" This wasn't what he had in mind.

"I didn't say you have to leave, but don't stay as a slave or a servant."

He looked at her, questions of his fate burning in his chest. "You say that so easily."

"Not everyone operates with ulterior motives, you know," Alyssa said.

He snorted, "Most of my life I have had decisions made for me. Never once have I been my own man and here you blithely say things like 'do not serve me' and then treat me as an equal. What am I to think?"

"You can think whatever you want. I'm not your master, mistress, whatever. Do what's best for you."

Ashfur ran between the two of them, hot on the heels of a stick that Sandal had thrown.

He tried to keep tone out of his voice, but some of his anxiety broke though. "I don't know what that means." She was starting to frustrate him. "You could be telling me to stay or to go, I don't know which." Taking stock, he realized just how many people wanted him dead and his charm wouldn't be enough to save him. Not only that, he honestly didn't want to leave her company. When that Templar pulled his sword, Zevran didn't think, he just acted. She was starting to make him a different kind of nervous from when they first met. She could be so careless with her trust and one day it would get her killed. Then where would he be?

She watched Ashfur wrestle the stick to the ground. "If you're going to be with me, then be with me as a friend. Be with me because you want to. That's all."

His ears picked up. Back at the Circle he had felt her clutching his belt. At first he thought it was to push him forward if the Templar attacked again, but instead she had stopped trembling and was pulling him closer to her body. "Do you mean the group or you?" A small piece of him thought long since buried dared to hope it was the latter. He forced it away. There was no place for such fantasy.

She smiled when the dog and Sandal started a tug of war over the wood. "Hmm?" Her eyes fluttered. "What did I say?"

"You said, 'be with me.' Three times in fact." Zevran could feel his heart beating a little harder, holding his breath a little longer, as he waited for an answer.

"Oh. I meant, us, the group." Alyssa turned her head, letting her hair fall in her face so he couldn't see her eyes. "Anyway, I wanted to talk to you about what happened at the tower." He was about to tell her the same thing he told Alistair, but she said, "You asked for mercy on the mages behalf. I didn't expect that."

"Why because I'm an assassin? I suppose that would be a surprise."

"No, not that." She pushed her hair back from her face, "Wynne I could understand wanting to save the mages, but I was surprised that Morrigan was fine with killing them and you argued against that. I thought Morrigan would want them defended. I didn't think you had an opinion either way."

Zevran smirked, "Realizing I'm more than just a pretty face, are we?"

"If you want to be blunt, yes. Have you ever seen the damage that a blood mage can do? It's terrifying. Blood Mages can invade your mind to control your thoughts and they kill as efficiently as I can heal. Stitching Sten up after taking down that sloth demon wasn't easy." The Qunari had taken a very bad hit while they battled in the Fade, but Alyssa was able to close the wound and get him back on his feet even amidst all the chaos. There was blood stained all down her robe, dried and brown against the dark blue. If you died in the Fade, you died in the waking world.

Zevran shrugged, "Lots of things can kill, my dear Warden," he said. "Magic can kill. Knives can kill. Even small children launched at great speed could kill. Why single out the wielders of one and not the others?"

She closed her eyes and shook her head, "I don't even want to know where you got that last example." Alyssa put a hand to her lips trying to hide a grin. The crinkle by her eyes gave her away.

"Just to seeing if I could get you to smile."

"And?"

"You do not disappoint." She lowered her hand, resigned to giving the assassin what he wanted and not looking too put out for it. "My original point was not disputing the killing or not," Zevran said. "It was to point out that there was no fairness in killing already caged creatures and the seeming biased nature of who should live and who should die. You spared me after all."

"And it was the best decision I have ever made." Alyssa squeezed his bicep gently and let her fingers trail down his arm until she was holding his hand.

This wasn't good. Couldn't she have grabbed his ass and made a lewd comment instead? That at least he could work with and a good tumble would be most welcome. His mind screamed to back away and yet he didn't want to let go, even though he'd be doing her no favors by encouraging this reckless behavior.

Zevran slowed to a stop and touched her chin. She allowed him to gently guide her face toward him. "Be careful."

"Of what?"

He was silent for a time, considering the advice he was about to give. "A leader has to be strong and command respect. She who wears her heart on her sleeve risks having it broken."

The moment he said those words, he realized he had misspoke. Her eyes clouded over and she pushed his hand away slowly, pulling hers from his light grasp, "Duly noted." She increased her pace until she was walking next to Leliana.

Zevran sighed and shook his head, cursing his clumsy words. He was a liar, a thief and a murderer and didn't deserve her kindness. So why did his chest ache?


	10. The Templar, the Mage, His Rose and Her Assassin

The Circle of Magi was able to help save Arl Eamon's son, the mage Jowan was able to redeem himself, and everyone got to live another day. Ales all around! Alyssa was so sick of Isolde by the time it was done that she wanted to scream. The fool woman was now expecting the Wardens to chase after a fantasy cure that may or may not help heal the Arl. There were no maps, no clues, no idea of where to start, and this well dressed idiot was insisting that the 'magical' Urn of Sacred Ashes was the only thing that would help. The irony wasn't lost on Alyssa.

After they finally put Redcliffe behind them, she led the team on the road to Denerim where they were told they could find Brother Genitivi. Since it was on the way, Alyssa made the call to stop at the Brecilian Forest to talk with the Dalish. Two birds, one stone, right? They made camp a few miles out from their destination. Alistair asked to speak with Alyssa in private.

"What's on your mind?"

"Here," he held up a flower, "do you know what this is?"

So many sarcastic lines, so little time. She smirked, "You're new weapon of choice?"

"Yes, that's right," he gesticulated as he spoke, "Watch as I thrash our enemies with the might power of floral arrangements! Feel my thorns, darkspawn! I will overpower you with my rosy scent!" Alyssa was laughing so hard that the corners of her mouth started to hurt. He waited until she calmed a bit. "Or, you know, it could just be a rose. I know that's pretty dull in comparison."

His face grew a bit more serious, but no less, what was the word? Dreamy? No that couldn't be it, could it? "You've been thumbing that flower for a while, now."

"I picked it in Lothering. I remember thinking, 'How could something so beautiful exist in a place with so much despair and ugliness?'" He shrugged, "I probably should have left it alone, but I couldn't. The darkspawn would come and their taint would just destroy it. So I've had it ever since."

Alyssa could feel her cheeks tingle with heat. Could this be, a mage and a Templar, ok ex-Templar, together as lovers? It wasn't impossible, but it was probably not something that was looked upon as a good thing. A flutter of anticipation started in the pit of her stomach and spread up her chest, making her heart thunder. "And," it was a little hard to breathe, "what did you intend to do with it?" She leaned in a little closer.

Alistair was looking down at the rose, "I thought I might give it to Leliana. In a lot of ways, I think the same thing when I look at her."

Ice water would have been kinder. "Oh. Right." Alyssa smiled weakly and took a small step back.

"I just don't know what to say to her," he hadn't even noticed Alyssa's reaction because he was still looking at the damn flower. "You're a woman right? I thought you might be able to give me some ideas."

She sighed, "Yeah, first off, everything you said to me about the flower? Say that to her. Next, don't ask if she's a woman. Tends to spoil the mood."

"Oh, no, I didn't mean that!"

"Alistair," Alyssa pinched the bridge of her nose for a moment, but then softened her expression. Not a mind reader, remember? Just a man. She smiled and patted his arm, "Go get her." As he trotted off to the other side of the clearing, she muttered to herself, "Don't have time for crap like that anyway…"

She heard someone swearing by the fire pit and decided to investigate.  
___________________________________________________________________________________

As the rest of the group was setting up their tents, Zevran crouched close to the fire pit trying desperately to coax a flame from the tinder. He struck the flints repeatedly over the wood shavings willing them to ignite. The Ferelden cold was getting to him. Goosebumps covered his bare arms and he couldn't shake the chill from his bones even under the furs in his tent. Being without companionship for more nights than he was willing to count didn't do much to improve his mood either. He prayed that they would make it to Denerim soon. At least The Pearl was there and he could make up some pretense to get a few extra coins out of the Wardens. Another round of strikes failed to light. Zevran slammed the flints at his feet, swearing loudly.

Alyssa stood over him, "Need a hand?"

"What I need is a damn fire," he said with a clenched jaw. The elf stood up rubbing his bare arms to get his circulation going. "I don't know how you stand this constant freeze."

Alyssa curled her hand into a fist, tucking her thumb inside. She flicked her thumb from her fist until a small red flame danced on top of it. After a few moments of fussing with the tinder, a cheerful crackling fire warmed their legs. "You might want to think about reevaluating your wardrobe." She tugged on his shoulder guards drawing attention to the sleeveless shirt underneath. "Take it off."

Zevran's eye brows shot up followed by a toothy grin. "No dinner? Flowers? Gifts of lethal poison? Ha! You spoil me." When he stepped closer to her, the Warden stopped him with two fingers pressed against his chest.

"Don't make me hurt you."

"I like where this is going."

Alyssa blustered turning a bit pink at the cheeks. "Just the chestplate. Keep your sodding shirt on."

All work and no play was the Grey Warden before him. Still, Zevran caught the little smile that tugged at the corner of her lips. The assassin decided to have a little fun and maybe end up redeeming his ill-chosen words from their trek out of Redcliffe.

Zevran turned his head toward his right shoulder, letting his blond hair sweep over his left. He ran the pads of his fingers lightly up his bare tanned skin and under the shoulder guard to loosen the buckle with his left hand. He glanced up at her under his long lashes, noticing how her throat flashed as she averted her gaze from his eyes to his chest. She rubbed the side of her temple with one hand and placed the other on her hip, still unable to look up. Bringing his right hand slowly up the side of his body, Zevran unbuckled the last of the straps holding the armor to his chest. He pushed the armor off his shoulder and guided it to the ground to soften the thud as it fell. The assassin stood before her, head slightly tilted to the side, golden eyes running the length of her body, chest raised.

Alyssa blinked. "'Bout time." She stepped toward him and clapped him hard on the shoulders. A little 'oof' of surprise escaped him. A flash of white light sparked from her hands. The mage ran her fingers from his shoulders and down his arms magically stretching the black cotton cloth of his tunic. At his wrists, Alyssa finished off the shirt in Orlesian style cuffs with gold buttons, "Done."

Zevran looked down at his arms, "Very impressive." He shook his wrists and smiled. "I love the detail."

"I thought you might." A grin spread across her face and for once he didn't see her struggle to hide it.

"It's good to see you smile," he said. "If I had it my way, it would happen more often. Seeing those pink lips bloom in joy instead of scowling in frustration," he stepped closer, brushing the back of his fingers across her cheek. "I wonder. How would my name sound dancing on your tongue, leaving your mouth in a moan of ecstasy?" Whenever he used this tactic a deep blush or a passionate kiss always followed. He breathed in her scent, honeysuckle and pinesap, so different from the mud and garbage they were surrounded by in Redcliffe.

The Warden smirked. "You're so full of crap."

The assassin grinned back. She hadn't pushed his hand away. He thought she may even be leaning into him a little. "Ah, you lips say 'no', but your eyes say 'yes!'" He loved the fire in her. When she was angry he loved the fire around her. She could be so dangerous if she just let go, but the woman was always in control. It was intoxicating. And, he thought ruefully, it really had been a long time for him.

"I'll remember that when you're bleeding out in my tent and your lips say 'ouch' as your eyes say 'oh shit!'"

Zevran chuckled. "At least I'll have made it into your tent."

"Forever the optimist," her smile faded when a squeak from Leliana across the camp sounded out. Alyssa made a 'tsk' sound with her tongue.

Damn. He was on a roll, too. Ah well. "I take it that Alistair finally spoke to Leliana."

"Yeah," she said flatly.

Of course. The knight in shining armor thing was always popular. "I'm sorry."

Alyssa tilted her head to the side and squinted one eye, "I don't think I am though."

"Why not?"

"Alistair is," she paused, trying to pick the right words. "His moral compass points true North. Even if doing the right thing, so to speak, ended up hurting someone he cares about or hurting himself, he would still do it. If I'm going to be with someone, I only have one rule."

Zevran smiled wide, not able to resist, "The safety word is 'Mabari'?" The tip of his tongue was held between his teeth for a moment.

"No," the joke suddenly hit her and she covered her mouth trying to control her laughter, "Holy Maker no! Good gods!" Tears formed at the corner of her eyes and the others at camp started staring at her. She waved them off, her laughter finally dying down. "Sweet Andraste…"

He was rather proud of himself, "So what is your one rule, my dear lady? I remind you that I am very good at following orders." He winked.

Alyssa said, "I am your Goddess. Worship no one before me." She pointed at Leliana and Alistair, "The two of them already have me in second place from all that Chantry bullshit."

Zevran tucked the curls on the side of her face behind her ear and brushed his thumb lightly over her bottom lip, whispering softly, "What fools those mortals be." Her pupils dilate until her eyes looked almost like black pearls. He heard her breath hitch in her chest, but just as he was moving in to taste her lips, Zevran swept the legs out from under her. Arrows zipped out from the tree line and peppered the camp sending everyone for cover. "Alistair! Sten!" Zevran called out as he shielded her body, curled under him on the ground. Both warriors were already charging in the direction of the attack, batting away the arrows with their swords and shield. Before they could get very far, the camp was flooded by fierce elven archers, clad in embroidered leathers and wielding daggers and long bows.

The Dalish had found them.


	11. Over Hill & Over Dale

The Wardens and their companions hadn't realized just how close they were to the Dalish until they arrived under heavy guard at the Dalish base camp. The hunters were not gentle to any of them, not even Zevran, although it didn't start out that way. The second he stood up from shielding Alyssa, his daggers were out and held to the neck of one of the assailants. A female elf with elaborate tattoos on her scowling face had approached Zevran and the hunter he had at knife point. "You're under no obligation to protect the shemlen, brother. You are free now to do as you will."

"Then I will guard her until my last breath, if you don't mind," he said. After that he was treated like the rest of them, relieved of his weapons and separated from his teammates. The same elf that spoke to him appeared to be the leader of the Dalish hunting party. She had the Wardens and their companions walk single file, two elves to each prisoner, deep into the forest. At least they weren't tied up or blindfolded, but they were clearly not free to leave.

As far as being captive goes it wasn't such an ordeal, save for one of the young hunters who took a sick interest in Alyssa, following her too closely and whispering poisoned words in her ear. He was tall with long black braided hair and dressed in green leathers. Zevran had tried to stay as near as possible, but the guards and the narrow path through the trees made it difficult. He could intervene if things got ugly, however it would be quiet difficult and he might get killed in the process. Then what good was he to her? Zevran's sharp ears picked up the conversation, if you wanted to call it that. The more he heard the more he wanted to slit the bastard's throat.

"I once cut up a pretty shem girl like you," the dark haired Dalish said. "It took three days for her to die, but I was feeling compassionate. I could have made it last much longer. Would you like that, sweetness?" He kept stride with her, "Would you like to feel my blade in you?"

The Warden kept her face forward, not so much as glancing at the hunter. Her voice was steady as she replied. "Is that your way of offering a little prick?" She made sure to put the emphasis on 'little'.

His pursed his lips, the corner of his mouth twitching upward, "You're a healer. I could tell from the magic you used to help your friend." He thrust his chin in Zevran's direction. "Some of our healers can regenerate themselves. I swear their wounds don't even bleed. Can you do that?"

"Five seconds per square inch."

The hunter started running his fingers up and down the blades of his sheathed daggers. It was a slow sensual motion, caressing it like a lover, like it was part of him. He smiled, gliding the tip of his tongue across his lips, "I could drag you out for weeks."

Zevran felt the hackles rise on the back of his neck.

"I wouldn't suggest it." All Zevran saw was her back because of the line they were in, but he could still hear her voice. She sounded bored. "You'd be dead in twenty seconds after I popped your lungs in your chest, unless the shock kills you first. Makes it hard to do much when you're choking on a gurgling rush of blood."

"I don't need to be close to you to kill you."

Alyssa slowly turned to the hunter. She drew her eyes to his face, cold dark slits, and whispered, "Neither do I."

Zevran felt a coil of heat tighten below his stomach sending a bolt of pleasure up his spine. A little moan escaped him. Really, the way she carried on sometimes it was enough to make him blush. Imagine what she could do with some restraints and a studded leather corset. That mental picture wasn't helping, but oh Maker he would be saving that for later.

Eventually they were brought directly to the Keeper when they entered the camp. By some miracle, Alistair was able to convince the guard leader that they were in fact Grey Wardens seeking the aid of the Dalish. The assassin leaned against one of the aravels with Ashfur at his feet snoring softly while both Wardens spoke with Keeper Zathrian. The Keeper was giving them a hard time, but at least he wasn't as forceful as the escort. Zevran only caught pieces of the conversation, something about werewolves and a disease, or whatever. Couldn't she just wiggle her fingers and be done with it? The dark haired elf that harassed her was still lingering about.

Alyssa approached her team. "I'm going to need the heavy hitters for this one. Sten, Alistair, Morrigan, the rest of you can relax for a while until we return. I'm not sure how long this will take, so I'd like to get moving soon. Navigating the forest at night doesn't fill me with girlish glee."

When the recon team headed for the weapons master to load up on supplies, Zevran lightly touched Alyssa's shoulder to get her attention, "You're leaving me behind?" He didn't mean for it to sound, well, pathetic, but he couldn't calm his nerves.

"Actually, I need you here," she pulled him off to the side, out of range of her team and as many hunters that were visible. She spoke low and close to his ear. "I need you do some listening for me while we're gone. Zathrian isn't telling us everything and if we're walking into a trap, you'll have to bring Leliana and Wynne into the forest to find us."

"I understand, but—"

"Please, Zev, I need you to do this for me. They won't open up to a shem, but they might talk to you."

"You're being very foolish," he said. He leaned in close and spoke low, "I don't like the thought of you traveling a dark forest with that culero following you." As if merely mentioning the hunter would summon him, Zevran's hands slid to his daggers' hilts.

She laughed, "What am I supposed to do? Leave? We have work here."

"Take me with you. All the time I have been in your company I've never seen you cast an attack spell or seen you kill anything. I'm starting to wonder if you can protect yourself at all."

Alyssa narrowed her eyes at him and raised her voice, "I did just fine before you. Don't speak to me as if I'm some helpless little girl!"

Zevran clenched his teeth, "I wouldn't if you would learn to fight."

"I know how to fight. Don't forget who kicked your ass."

"The dog." Before she even thought about pulling rank, he said, "Think about where you are before you bring up anything that followed." Alyssa looked away from him. The grip she had on her staff made her knuckles turn white. Zevran didn't care. He knew he was right and if she refused to protect herself then she better get used to the fact that she'd be seen as a little girl. She was a Warden. She was supposed to be a killer.

He was surprised to suddenly see her expression soften and the death grip on her staff easing. "Why are you so afraid for me?"

He knew that look. If she thought for one moment that she was more to him than a means to an end...well, it was absurd. Wasn't it? "If you die, I die. My fate is tied up in yours for the time being. You don't honestly think that Alistair will keep me safe from the Crows if something happens to you, do you?"

"Yes, I do."

"Then he is just as stupid as you are." He waved her off, crossing his arms.

The apples of her cheeks turned a delightful shade of pink when she smiled and bit her lip. The assassin did his best not to notice and even went so far as turning his head, but when Alyssa brushed her hand against his cheek his resolve waned. "I'll come back. I promise."

He swallowed hard, but nodded all the same. "Alyssa," he hesitated, looking into her brown eyes, "every one of these hunters knows the forest as if it was part of them. Please be on your guard always." She saw his concern. She must have.

"I will."

Arms still crossed and frowning, Zevran watched her and the others enter the Brecilian Forest until she turned a corner and vanished completely from sight. A wistful sigh came from behind him. "She's certainly something isn't she?" The dark haired elf had joined Zevran in watching the Wardens head into the forest. "Is she yours?"

"Hardly," Zevran snorted. "Grey Wardens belong to no one. But the pay is good. Otherwise I wouldn't be caught dead with this band of merry fools. You on the other hand," he let his eyes wander up the young Dalish's form, "seem very capable, and not foolish in anyway."

"I'm sorry for the show of force earlier, brother," he smiled and introduced himself. "My name is Dassan."

"Zevran." They clasped hands, "Very charmed to meet you, brother." Zevran brushed his thumb along the back of Dassan's gloved hand. In the brief moment he had, the assassin studied him. Thin ink lines formed a leafless tree tattoo over the elf's entire face, framing his blue eyes and thin lips. His cheekbones were high and defined, flattering his square jaw. All in all, he was a very handsome fellow. Tall, lithe, black hair in a long braid reaching to his waist, strong lean arms and skin the color of cream all wrapped in fine dark green and brown leather armor. Zevran held his hand a moment longer than was proper.

Dassan lowered his lashes and smiled. "Your accent. You're not from around here are you?"

"I hail from Antiva, originally."

"So far from here? What brought you to Ferelden?"

"The promise of money, glory and a favor for a friend."

The hunter tilted his head, "What kind of favor?"

He rolled his eyes. "A friend of mine was in love with tales of the Grey Wardens, but too much of a coward to leave Antiva by himself. You know how it goes." Dassan smiled and nodded. Zevran continued, "His ceaseless researching paid off when he heard of the Ferelden Wardens mounting an attack at Ostagar. After weeks of begging and pleading, which was completely unbecoming, I said I would travel with him. As you no doubt heard, it didn't end well." He hooked a thumb at the direction of the forest entrance. "I woke up with that simpering wench hanging over me, being lectured about the finer points of dodging arrows."

"Not your type is she?"

"I'm not paid nearly enough, my friend." He rested his hands on the hilts of his daggers. "She insists on helping every sob story we come across. Not to dismiss your troubles. Frankly this is the first worthy cause we've yet discovered." The Crow training was not so far from memory. It was familiar. He found the seduction flow easily from his body language, the lies steady from his lips. The hunter may be as sly as Zevran, but there was one thing that he wanted just like everyone else: attention.

"So she makes the decisions? Not the big shem and the giant?"

"As a rule, they look to her. Shemlen." He shrugged. "They don't have Keepers to guide them so they follow the first strong arm and big mouth that they meet. It's a shame your tribe is having the trouble it is, and yet I'm sure your Keeper has done everything he can." It was slight, but Zevran saw how Dassan shifted his eyes away, his smile faltering. He tilted his head, "Is something the matter, brother?"

"I shouldn't speak to an outsider..." Dassan narrowed his eyes.

Zevran leaned in close, "I can think of many things to do other than speak."

The Dalish elf grinned, showing his sharp canine teeth. "Follow me. I know just the place." He took Zevran by the hand and guided him to the opposite end of the camp. A small overgrown path led from the camp to a different forest entrance. Zevran hesitated, "Didn't your keeper forbid you to go into the forest?"

Dassan said, "It's ok. No one else knows about this."

"I didn't know the Dalish made a habit of hiding secrets from their Keeper."

"Oh sweet brother," he said, a bemused smile on his face, "you have no idea how many secrets our Keeper holds for himself." He motioned for Zevran to follow. The assassin it seemed was not the only one who wore cloak of the deceiver well.

They strolled through the ancient trees, among the dappled sunlight with vibrant green moss underfoot silencing their steps. Dassan rarely had to look down to guide his feet. Instead he kept glancing at Zevran, smiling when the assassin looked up in awe at the canopy overhead. He kissed Zevran's knuckles, holding his gaze with an icy blue stare. A chill swept through him, looking into those cold eyes, seeing no mirth at all. This Dalish was no Crow, but they would have paid a king's ransom to have him.

Smells of wildflowers and good earth mingled with wisps of crisp air winding through the whole of the forest. The hunter guided him across a trail of large stones nestled in a river that flowed from a lazy waterfall, tucked in between a rocky hillside. He watched the water tumble and sparkle in the sun, crystal clear. Hot breath near his ear startled him and he had to force a moan when Dassan dragged his tongue across Zevran's bare neck.

"What do you think?" Dassan asked.

"Your forest is beautiful," he said. "So full of life and light. It makes the city seem like a tarnished tea set."

The hunter sucked on his teeth as he looked up and down Zevran's body, "And what does that make you, city brother?" He didn't blink. The whole time they were together he might have blinked twice. Under his constant stare, Zevran felt exposed, but damn it if he let this creep know.

"A diamond in the rough."

A smile that didn't reach his eyes played on Dassan's face, "We're almost there."

Zevran kept close to the hunter, wondering how far into the woods they were traveling. They started to pass ruined archways and fallen trees. Headstones jutted out of the strangest places, cracked and worn. Just before he was going to ask how much further, Dassan stopped. They were on a small hill overlooking an abandoned camp site clearing. The hill was tucked in among a thick tree line choked with underbrush and vines. One of the trees formed a v shape with its branches and in the crook rested a heavy crossbow. A trap, obviously, but for what?

Dassan put a firm hand on Zevran's chest and backed him up against the tree. A smile curled his lips, "You're beautiful. But you know that."

"I do."

Zevran felt his stomach lurch when the hunter traced his fingers lightly down the three dark lines that rode his face. This used to be easier. Seduction was one of his favorite techniques, but something was wrong. There was fear backing it, taking away his control, making him slave instead of master. He looked deeply into Dassan's blue eyes. They were wide, dilated and held lust for dominance. Zevran leaned forward to kiss the hunter, trying to gain some ground, but was pushed back firmly against the tree. "Shhh," Dassan whispered, "has it been so long, brother?"

He nodded. Keep him distracted. At least he was away from Alyssa. At least here the Dalish elf could do her no harm. Why did that matter so much?

Dassan crushed Zevran's lips under his. He bit his bottom lip hard enough to draw blood and a grunt from the assassin. "The Keeper left out a few things when he spoke to your shem leader."

"Lethal information I hope?" Zevran grinned. Perfect.

"Unfortunately, no," Dassan sneered. "What he didn't mention was how the werewolves came to be." Zevran cocked his head to the side and waited. "Keeper Zathrian summoned a spirit of the forest to seek vengeance against a human tribe that killed children. The spirit murdered many of the tribe and turned the rest into the beasts your friends now seek. They have since regained their power of thought and are not so mindless."

Not a trap, just a lie. Morrigan, Sten and Alistair should have no problem cutting down the werewolves. At least it was good news. Zevran smiled, "I don't think it makes much difference, save to give her a crisis of conscience."

Dassan pressed against him once more, kissing down his neck, running his hands up his legs and under his leather skirt. There was no warmth about this elf. When he touched Zevran, it was as if he were examining him, like a bug with its wings about to be pulled off. There was emptiness in his eyes. During contracts, if intimacy could be leveraged, the assassin never aimed to make the victim feel like a victim. It was not his way. They came to his bed willingly or not at all.

Zevran had to force his body to react. He thought of an Antivan dancer he had the pleasure of knowing. They had spent a wild summer together, making love, drinking wine until she left for Orlais to be a courtesan. He held on to the memory of her long legs, unbound red hair and slender fingers. It served well in tricking the Dalish, stirring a soft chuckle deep in his chest.

"Have you guessed yet why we're here, brother?" the hunter asked.

"Not just for a tumble I take it?" Zevran's smirk vanished when he heard fighting and Alyssa's voice from just down the hill.

"You know how shemlen are," Dassan said, reaching up to the crossbow and slipping a bolt in the chamber. "They stick together. They kill elves." He guided Zevran's hands between his legs until the assassin was grasping the hunter's manhood. He moved his hips until Zevran took over the motion on his own. "She won't have the chance to help the wolves murder our people." He moaned low in his chest and adjusted the site on the crossbow.

While Dassan was lost to the assassin's ministrations, Zevran unsheathed one of his daggers. He waited.

The hunter thrust his hips rhythmically and took aim. "This will be the biggest prick that little girl will ever have."

Zevran plunged the dagger under the hunter's armor and deep into his gut, pulling upward. Dassan's hand spasmed firing the bolt, but sending it slightly off course. He hoped it was enough to miss the target. There was no time to hang around, not with a body to hide and blood to clean off his armor. He cut off the elf's braid and pinned it to the tree with a carving knife he grabbed off the body. Let them blame the werewolves for that. The moss underfoot once again silenced his steps as he dragged the dead elf through the undergrowth.  
____________________________________________________________________________  
Morrigan looked about the clearing. A trap. She should have known from the magic laced about the fire and the tents. It was powerful magic indeed to trip her keen senses. It brought some comfort that Alyssa was also unaware of the danger, thought that would have been no condolence if they had perished.

"Of course there was a shadow monster," Alyssa grumbled, "I mean, why not, right? Trigger happy elves, darkspawn, giant killer trees, werewolves and now a shadow monster. What more could a girl ask for?"

Alistair said, "A score card?" He shouldered his shield and straightened his hair. He was always fussing with his hair, that dim witted twit.

"Sure, why the hell not," she dusted off her robes. "Everyone still in one piece?"

"That creature preyed on travelers who camped here," Morrigan said. She frowned and looked about the clearing. "I do not sense anything else. No more should fall victim." She shuddered. They could not be rid of this forest soon enough. If the Wardens didn't need extra troops, the witch would have advised leaving at once. It felt like there were eyes everywhere and it wasn't the first time she felt they were being followed.

"There is a lockbox here," Sten said as he sheathed his sword.

"Crack it open, we might as well—" Alyssa made a wet, choking sound as crossbow bolt lodged itself in her chest and protruded out the back. Sten vanished into the trees to find the one who fired it. Alistair stood in front of Alyssa, his shield raised in defense against any that might follow. She clutched the bolt with both hands, blood start to seep through her robes.

"Warden, listen to me very carefully," Morrigan spoke clearly and as calmly as she could, fighting the tremor in her voice. "Nod or shake your head. Did it hit your heart?"

Alyssa shook her head. Dark red blood was oozing from the wound with a warm sticky smell.

"An artery?"

She shook her head. Her face was starting to turn blue and a raspy hollow sound came from her chest as she tried to breathe.

"Your lung?"

She nodded.

Morrigan turned her head and swore. "Can you heal the tissue around it?"

She nodded again.

"Do that. Alistair, when Alyssa heals herself, pull out the bolt."

"Are you insane?" Alistair yelped. "She'll suffocate."

"Shut up, you stupid fool! Do you want to her to live or not?"

His brow started to sweat. There was no follow up fire since the first, so Alistair slowly lowered his shield.

Morrigan swallowed hard. "Nod when you have healed as much as you can. Alistair will pull out the arrow and I will cast another spell to stem the bleeding." Wynne should have been here. Morrigan knew precious little of healing, but if Alyssa would just face reality and learn some aggressive spells she wouldn't have ended up like this.

Seconds stretched into minutes as a dim green light surrounded Alyssa's torso easing into her flesh. Morrigan pulled a small blade from her belt and carefully cut off the metal tip. It was slow going but when it finally fell to the ground she charged a healing spell. "Now, Alistair!"

Alistair pulled. Spit foam and blood exploded out of Alyssa's mouth and down her front. Morrigan sent a surge of healing energy into the mage to halt the flow of blood long enough for Alyssa's body to regenerate the pieced lung. The Warden fell to her knees clutching her chest and trying to breathe while Alistair and Morrigan were hovered over her. After a few moments, Alyssa was able to breathe more freely.

Morrigan shouted at her, "This would not have happened if you would have just accepted my offer!"

"No," Alyssa's voice was raw and rasping. "I can't do that."

"What you cannot do is die before your quest even begins," she glared at the Warden. "I've never heard of any mage who refused to learn even the most basic attack spells. You wreath yourself in flames when angered, so I know you are capable of force."

"My mother taught me to heal, not harm."

"Your mother is dead because of it."

A tense silence filled the clearing. Alistair looked from one woman to the other, but said nothing. At least the idiot knew when to stay out of things. "Wardens fight the darkspawn," Morrigan said. "They do not ask them nicely to please stop blighting the lands. What are you going to do when you face the archdemon? Run away and hope for the best?"

Alyssa couldn't look up at her. She pulled her knees as close to her chest as she could without wincing and kept her eyes focused on the ground.

"I know you did not choose this life," Morrigan's voice was gentler this time. "Often we do not get a choice. That does not mean one should be foolish. You have weapons at your fingertips, use them."

Alistair stepped forward. Morrigan wondered how much of his foot he would be able to stick in his mouth. "Alyssa," he said, kneeling in front of her, "you know Morrigan and I agree on nothing, but…she has a point." The witch blinked several times in surprise. Alyssa raised her face to him. "Yes, I know," he smiled, "I thought I was dreaming too. She's right though. Just look at how many times you've been vulnerable. The tower, the camp and now."

Sten arrived back at the clearing, interrupting the moment. "There was no marksman. Only this pinned to a tree." He held up a long black braid.

She looked up at the hair hanging from the Qunari's hand and shook her head. "Son of a bitch…"  
____________________________________________________________________________

When the team returned to the Dalish camp, Zevran could tell that Alyssa's temper was worn out. She was pale and covered in blood all down her left side. He cursed under his breath when he saw the hole in her robes.

The exhaustion and irritation were clear in her voice, "Your keeper is dead, the werewolves are gone, and your people are saved. I want my damn troops now." The new Keeper, Lanaya, stared at her open mouthed. Alyssa narrowed her eyes, "It's been a very long day. Do I get my troops or not?"

"Keeper!" Three of the hunters came running towards Keeper Lanaya with a broken bow in his hands. "Something happened to Dassan. He's been missing for hours."

"Warden, have you seen Dassan in the forest?" the Keeper asked, "He is a little taller than you are with a long dark braid."

"I didn't see any Dalish, but there were plenty of werewolves that attacked us." She held up the braid.

One of the hunters stepped forward to claim the braid. "Was there no way to save him?"

"No."

Zevran appeared by her side. "Warden, we must move on to Denerim as quickly as possible. I am worried that your injuries will need more attention than any here can give." A flimsy excuse, but he wanted to get as far away from the Dalish as possible.

Keeper Lanaya said, "We will mourn those we have lost today, but you will have your troops, Warden. The Dalish will march to war."

"Thank you, Keeper," Alyssa nodded.

When the team arrived back to their camp site on the edge of the forest Alistair was the first to speak, "I say we pack our gear and put as much distance between us and this place as possible."

"No," Wynne said, "Alyssa needs to rest. She's lost too much blood from the attack. Pushing through to fight werewolves, what were you thinking?"

He sighed, "I begged her to go back, but she refused to leave. What was I supposed to do? Knock her out and drag her to camp?"

Alyssa ignored them both and slunk off to her tent with her staff dragging in the dirt. Zevran was worried. Dark circles rimmed the Warden's eyes and she moved weakly from the blood loss. He should been quicker. He should have—

"Ouch!" He felt a sharp pain in his ankle and looked down to see Ashfur wiggling his butt in the air. "Did you just nip me?"

"Arf!"

"Why did you nip me? Is it time for your dinner, because now I'm less inclined to feed you, little brute."

Ashfur whined, but didn't leave. He turned his head toward Alyssa's tent and then back to Zevran, "Arf!"

"She wants to see me?"

Ashfur nodded.

He narrowed his eyes at the dog. "You really are too smart for your own good, do you know that?"

The happy pant that followed confirmed it until a butterfly floated past the Mabari's field of vision. Ashfur chased after it.

Zevran softly called to Alyssa before entering her tent. When he pulled back the flap, he saw the mage lying on her uninjured side wincing. Her breath came in shallow gasps and from the way she kept squirming around, it was clear she couldn't get comfortable. "Shall I call for Wynne?"

"You do and I'll set your ass on fire," she struggled to sit up. "I'm tired of being fussed over. I just want… Maker this hurts…"

He didn't wait for her to finish. Lifting her upper body as gently as he could, he slipped in behind her using the pillows and a knapsack to prop up his back. She tried to sit up, "No! Not my back!" The severity of the wound prevented her from pushing away.

"Alyssa, stop, I'm not trying to hurt you." Zevran cradled her gently. "Don't worry, cara. Does your wound hurt so much? I can shift about if that will help, but trust me just this once, please." He ran his fingers through her hair until she calmed enough to stop thrashing about.

"Just promise you won't touch my back," she pleaded, shaking in his arms. There were tears at the corners of her eyes.

"I swear." Even after he promised, she still didn't rest her full weight on him until a few minutes passed. "Cara?"

"Mm hmm?"

"If you have the power to dull pain, why do you not do this for yourself?" He massaged her temples with his delicate fingers, feeling her sink into him.

"The pain is distracting," the tension was finally easing out of her voice. "I have trouble numbing when I'm in this much pain."

He said, "Well then, it is a good thing you sent Ashfur to 'fetch' me." He curled and an uncurled his short nails against the skin of her neck with a feather light touch, smiling as she shivered.

She murmured, "I didn't send…oh, Zev, that feels amazing."

The dog was a genius. He was already making a list in his head of all the different treats he was going to buy for Ashfur when they reached Denerim. "Would you like to change in to something more…uniform in color?"

She said wryly, "What? You don't think blood spatter sets off my eyes?"

"When I have such a gift at my fingertips the urge to unwrap it is overwhelming." He brushed his cheek against the top of her head and chuckled softly. "You should see me at Saturnalia. I'm fit to be 'tied'." Nuzzling her hair, he breathed her in deeply. The scent of her, honeysuckle and pinesap, stirred his desire. He enjoyed letting the heat play up and down his body, feeling it fill his chest.

"Oh! I have something for you," she needed Zevran's help to sit up so she could rummage through her pockets. When she found what she was looking for, Alyssa reclined against him, handing back a pair of dark green leather gloves.

"Gloves? You're giving me gloves? What for?"

"Take a closer look," she smiled. "And don't stop doing that thing with your fingers. Warden's orders or some bullshit like that."

He smirked. The gloves were marvelous craftsmanship. Just passing his thumb over the leather told him of the superior quality and examining the fine tailoring of the embroidery affirmed their exquisite nature. Something was familiar about them. A memory clicked in his mind, "Maker's breath! These are like my mother's!"

"I was hoping you'd say that."

"The leather was less thick and it had more embroidery, but these are very close." He slipped them on, "And quite handsome." They were made in such a way as to leave the fingers bare. Good for archers, excellent for pickpockets.

Alyssa was starting to doze off, but she was still grinning, "You're welcome."

"Do I seem surprised?" He murmured, "Perhaps I am." Zevran ran his nails through her hair and against her scalp to send tingling sensations through her body. From the way she shivered, he knew he was doing it right. "Still, I appreciate the fact that you even thought of me. No one has simply…given me a gift before." He looked down at her. With her eyes still closed she couldn't see the tenderness in his face. A weight in his chest had lifted. He had felt it for so long that he had forgotten how heavy it made him. Now there was a lovely enchantress lying in his arms, his hands tangled in her hair and whatever spell she was weaving he hoped it would never break.

"More to the left…oh sweet Andraste, bride of the Maker."

He rubbed the space behind her ears, watching her arch her back and listening to her contented sighs. The Crow training screamed in the back of his mind. 'Slit her throat from ear to ear. Quickly, while she's distracted. One slice and you can go home.' To what? An empty room, a gilded cage, and cruel master. Yes very appealing, he'd get right on that.

It wasn't the only fear that tried to fight through. He was a whore, if not in a brothel then certainly for the Crows. How many had he bedded at this point? Was he even still in the double digits? She had never asked about that, but what if the subject came up? He had no idea if he would lie or tell the truth. If he did tell the truth she might turn him away. His face fell and he was finding it difficult to swallow without feeling a dull ache in his throat.

"Stop blaming yourself."

"Sorry?" His unpleasant thoughts were interrupted, for now.

Alyssa shifted her body slowly, without wincing once. The massage seemed to have done its job and given her enough pleasure to override the pain. "You were right about my need to learn to fight," she looked up at him. "Morrigan was able to help me, but only just. She said she would teach me."

He sighed with relief, "Good. I don't understand why you waited so long."

Alyssa lowered her eyes. "Fear. I was afraid I'd lose control. Hurt someone. Hurt myself."

"If you cannot rise to be a Warden, many will be hurt, including you."

"I know," she said. "If you hadn't interrupted that Dalish archer, the bolt would have ripped right through my heart. It would have collapsed before my body healed it."

The assassin looked away. "I don't know what you mean. You said stay at the camp so I did."

"That's twice you've saved my life," she smirked. "People are going to start gossiping you know."

"Are you still talking?" He slid his hands past her shoulders and squeezed her biceps forcing a loud moan from her. "You should be losing yourself to the master massage techniques I'm applying."

"So where did you learn to do thi— Oh baby that's so…mmmm…," she melted into him, pain and tension vanishing completely.

In the hour that followed, he massaged her shoulders, arms, head, and neck until she dozed off, completely limp in his embrace. He decided to let future Zevran worry about the Crows and all the complications they brought. Planning, after all, wasn't his strong point.


	12. House of Cards

They had to stay near the Brecilian Forest a day longer than planned because of Alyssa's wounds. Thankfully she seemed mobile enough for Morrigan to begin her shapeshifting training. Alistair didn't notice much in the way of magic being used, but Alyssa seemed to have an endless string of questions. The physical training looked more like meditation and exercise than anything magical. As long as he didn't end up a frog they could do whatever they liked. The women had been training since early that morning, but when the light started to fail Morrigan called an end to the training and Alyssa returned to her tent to rest for a while.

Alistair turned the last of the skewered trout on the fire before calling the others to dinner. A nearby stream loaded with freshwater fish was a welcome change from dry rations. Ashfur lumbered over with his dark tongue hanging out of his mouth. He drooled and whined at Alistair. The Warden smirked, giving the dog a good scratch behind the ears. "Here you go, pup." He took one of the fish off the spits and tossed it to the Mabari. "Have at it boy." He looked around the camp. "Where's Alyssa?"

The dog grunted in response and looked up from his fish, jutting his nose in the direction of her tent. He turned back to his dinner.

Alistair approached Alyssa's tent and heard her speaking to someone else inside. "I've never done this before."

Who was she talking to?

The other voice was instantly recognizable. "Don't worry my dear, you are in good hands."

Zevran! Why the hell was he in her tent? All sorts of unsavory things ran through his mind making his blood boil, but before he was able to grab the tent flap he was pushed back by the Mabari.

"Grrrrrr!"Ashfur growled at Alistair and shook his head. It was clear the dog didn't want them to be disturbed.

Alistair didn't give a damn how close the dog and the elf were. He grabbed Ashfur's ear roughly and whispered though gritted teeth, "If you don't shut up I'll never feed you again!"

The Mabari winced, slinking off to the fire with his head and haunches low to the ground. Alistair glared at him.

He heard Alyssa's voice again, "Wait, I'm not ready."

"Just relax. You're doing fine." Zevran's voice was like silk.

Alistair blushed up to his hair line. There was no way they were doing, you know, that. Right? She was smart enough to resist the elf. He must be just taking things out of context. Any minute now Alyssa would force him from her tent shooting little flames at him. That would should him who's boss. Alistair waited.

"Wow," she breathed, "It's so big already."

Zevran chuckled, "You seem so surprised. How big did you think it was supposed to be?"

"I dunno. If it gets much bigger we might have to do this outside."

Andraste's flaming sword!

Alyssa's voice grew louder with excitement, "Yes, yes, yes!"

"Almost there!"

That was it. Alistair reached into the tent and grabbed an arm and pulled Alyssa out of the tent. "Holy balls!" she screamed. She was still fully clothed. Zevran followed and to Alistair's surprise, he was also fully clothed.

Zevran shouted at him, "What the hell is the matter with you? You could have torn her wounds open, you stupid oaf!"

Alistair ignored him. "What in the Maker's name were you two doing in there?" he yelled, giving her a good shake.

"None of your damn business," she pulled her arm out of his grasp and scowled. "Certainly nothing that constitutes yanking me out."

He wagged his finger at her and then pointed to Zevran. "I'm not leaving you alone in your tent with him. You know, you let him get entirely too close to you. Now he's in your tent where no one can see what he's doing? Oh no, I forbid it." He brought his wrists together, one crossing the other and moved his open hands down and away in a slashing motion.

Alyssa raised her eyebrows, "I don't give a fiddler's fart what you forbid. I'm an adult and you're not my damn father." Her head was swiveling side to side, her words becoming more heated.

"I'm not trying to be. I'm trying to keep you alive! He's an assassin, Alyssa. Don't be stupid. Using charm is what he does to get close to people before… you know!"

"That's perfect. In three minutes you managed to manhandle me out of my tent, question what I was doing in it, patronize me, and then call me stupid."

"I'm just trying to keep you from making a mistake."

"What mistake?" she gestured toward him with both hands open.

"Well it sounded like...like he was...you both could have been..."

"Andraste's knickerweasels," she hit her forehead with the palm of her hand. "You thought we were having sex?" When she wanted it to her voice could carry, and this time, boy did it ever. Alistair became keenly aware of the many pairs of eyes turning their way. Right before he tried to tell her to lower her voice, Alyssa shouted, "Who the fuck died and put you in charge of what happens inside and outside of my vagina!"

The jaws of both men dropped. The Chantry raised Warden almost choked on the embarrassment that shot through him. All thoughts and words were obliterated by Alyssa's outburst. She was as close to a little sister that he would ever have and to hear her yell about her…private…area, well it was just too much to handle. He could do nothing but sputter.

Zevran looked just as stunned, but nowhere near as flustered. He had his head lowered trying to hide a smirk. He brought his right hand up to his forehead and hugged his left arm across his stomach tucking his hand under his elbow. The assassin's shoulders shook with suppressed laughter.

Alistair finally regained the power of speech, albeit a bit high pitched and squeaky. "Holy Divine Mother, you did not just say that!" He brought his hands up to his eyes, not able to look at her.

"What? Vagina?" Loud was an understatement. Every head in the camp was turned their way, even Sandal's though Bodahn had his hands over the lad's ears. Alyssa kept going, "It's not a dirty word, Alistair. Women have vaginas and what they do with them is their own business."

Alistair stuck his fingers in his ears and yelled, "Stop saying that!" Zevran had covered his face entirely as tears were squeezed out the sides of his eyes in an effort to hold back the bulk of the laughter. She wasn't on fire, so that was a good sign.

"Vagina, vagina, vagina, vagina, vagina, vagina!"

Alistair had officially turned every shade of red known to man and quite possibly a few more yet undiscovered. He sank to his knees and covered his head unable to handle the spitfire mage and praying to the Maker that she didn't yell out any other female parts. Zevran burst into reels of laughter. His shoulders bounced, he doubled over holding his sides, and his cheeks were filled with a rosy blush. The Grey Warden, slayer of darkspawn, and Ferelden's only hope of survival had just lost her mind and started screaming about her vagina loud enough to summon the archdemon.

Alyssa held her hand open at him waving it in a circular motion. "I can't deal with you right now!" she headed for the tree line. Leliana chased after her.

When Alistair finally pulled his fingers from his ears, Zevran clapped his hands slowly. "Bravo my friend. You certainly handled that like a man."

Alistair jumped to his feet and glared at the elf. "Shut up! This is all your fault!"

Zevran rolled his eyes. "Yes, you're absolutely right. How stupid of me."

"It is, damn it!" He pointed at Zevran, "If you hadn't been sneaking into her tent none of this would have happened. It's all your fault!" A weight had settled in his chest turning his stomach upside down. It was all wrong, all of it just came out all wrong, and now he felt miserable. It must have shown clear as day on his face, because Zevran touched his arm.

"Alistair," he said softly, "she loves you as a brother. If you go to her and apologize she will forgive you. But first you need to understand why she is so upset."

"She's mad because I'm an idiot."

"Partly, but that is not the real reason."

He sneered, "And you're going to tell me?"

"Stop acting like a child. It's unbecoming." Zevran narrowed his eyes. "Your leader, Duncan I believe, saw fit to make her a Grey Warden, yes? She has traveled through Ferelden recruiting armies, battling werewolves, and preparing to kill an archdemon yet you treat her like a child when she is alone with another man. Which is it? She is woman when she has a job to do, but child when it comes to companionship?"

"Well I don't know what your intentions are with her!" Alistair snapped. "You did try to kill us all, remember?"

"And now I owe her a blood debt since she has spared my life," Zevran said, "but that is not the problem here, is it?"

Alistair shook his head, "I don't follow."

"Would you have reacted the same way if a different man was in her tent?"

"I…" Alistair thought about it for a moment. In the little towns they visited for supplies he had noticed when men would look at her with desire and he always made sure to stick close to her, shooting them warning looks. Guilt swelled up in his chest, "Oh bugger…but I only want to protect her. Some men can be really horrible."

Zevran said, "Let's take that a step further. You are with Leliana, her best friend. How do you think she feels seeing you both together and not having that kind of companionship?"

Alistair winced, "And I just made it seem like she can't have that, didn't I?"

Zevran nodded.

He put his hand across his eyes, "She must hate me now."

"My dear Alistair, if she hated you she would not be so upset." Zevran took him by the arm and led him in the same direction Alyssa and Leliana had walked. "Apologize to her and she will forgive you. She seems to have a great affection for men who put their foot in their mouth. Come, you know what happens when women commiserate about the men they choose."

"Why are the pretty ones always so complicated?" Alistair followed Zevran.

"It's the smart ones you need to look out for. They happen to be both."  
\------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
Cool night air laced through her fur as Morrigan trotted back through the darkened forest clenching a dead rabbit firmly in her jaws. Her paws fell silently in the dirt and leaves littering the ground. Everything smelled of sticky metallic blood, but under that was the moss and decay of the woods. Running among the trees always made her feel free, wild, powerful. Now it was time to return to camp. When she left, Alistair had been roasting fish over the fire. On her way back, Morrigan slipped through the undergrowth and past the pond not far from where they had set up. She didn't expect to see Alyssa and Leliana deep in conversation. Well, that was a bit of an understatement. Leliana was seated on a rocky outcropping near the pond while Alyssa paced back and forth shouting about how Alistair was being an idiot. Morrigan decided to stay hidden and have her meal while she watched.

"He's just having a 'big brother' moment," Leliana said, trying to calm the Warden down, "I'm sure he didn't mean anything by it."

"He doesn't trust me, that's what it comes down to," Alyssa yelled. She shook her head, "All this time, all we've been through. He wanted me to make the heavy decisions, but he doesn't trust me to make a good choice when it comes to being with someone else. He waited until the last minute to tell me he's a prince!"

"He does trust you. He's just confused."

Alyssa made a razzing sound with her lips, "Confused my ass! At the end of the day all he sees is an apostate. I'm not a friend or a Warden, just an apostate. It's not fair!"

She was quite the fool for hanging her hopes on a Templar. 'Twas bad enough that she desired more from the assassin, but if she thought for a moment that a Templar and a mage would ever be equals then her naiveté would eventually get her killed. Morrigan ripped off a piece of the rabbit's hind leg with her long canines and chewed the sinew, blinking her yellow eyes.

Leliana sighed, "Alyssa, think about Alistair. Think about what he's really like. I don't believe he sees 'apostate' when he looks at you. I think he sees 'sister.' Zevran did try to kill you once before."

"And he's saved me a few times since!"

"I didn't say Alistair was right. I agree with you," Leliana said. "When you decide to be intimate with Zevran is your choice."

Alyssa stopped pacing. Her hands fell to her sides and all anger and frustration vanished leaving an air of tension. Leliana rose to her feet, "Alyssa…Alyssa what's wrong?"

Her jaw worked. A hard swallow flash at her throat and it was a few moments before she spoke. "I can't." She turned her back to Leliana. "I can't be with him, I just can't."

Something fluttered in Morrigan's stomach. The way Alyssa went suddenly still, as if she could keep control by ceasing to move or make noise. Leliana seemed to know what was troubling her.

"It was that man that took you after your father died," the sister said. "He hurt you didn't he."

Alyssa nodded.

"It must have been very frightening." Leliana touched Alyssa's arm. "I've seen how move. You don't let anyone stand behind you if it can be helped. After you were hurt, I overheard Zevran asking if Wynne could tend to your wounds a second time, because you were nervous about having your back touched. But the crossbow bolt went through your chest."

Alyssa shuddered. She slowly brought her hand up and with a slight motion, almost too hard for Morrigan to see, she flicked her wrist in a whipping motion. Morrigan put the pieces together as Leliana gave voice to what happened.

"How long did he have you whipped?"

Alyssa held up all five of her fingers.

"Days?"

She shook her head.

"Weeks?"

She nodded.

Leliana pressed her hands together and put them to her lips. She whispered, "Andraste's tears." She lowered her hands. "Alyssa I am so sorry."

Alyssa shook her head. Through all of it Morrigan noticed not once did the Warden cry. She expected it. Her own emotions screamed outrage at the sniveling coward who would have a woman caged and whipped, but there was little to be done about it now. The fact that Alyssa had broken free of her captor earned Morrigan's respect. Her refusal to weep over it won her admiration, though she would not begrudge Alyssa her tears.

"How did you escape?" Leliana asked.

Alyssa spoke softly, "After the worst of the beatings I woke up in a bedroom alone. There was a wedding gown on a dress form with a note attached to it." She swallowed thickly. "It said 'I own you.'"

Morrigan bristled.

"I took off the bloody rags I was wearing, put on the dress and found my way to the roof." The spirit in her eyes went dead. Her arms hung loosely at her sides. "I jumped." A long silence followed.

"Did he—"

"No," Alyssa said sharply. "He was saving that for last. Idiot made the mistake of leaving the doors unlocked." She grabbed Leliana's arm, "You cannot tell Zevran or Alistair! Alistair won't be able to keep his mouth shut and Zevran…" she swallowed hard, "…you can't tell him."

"He has plenty of scars himself," Leliana said, "and he's not the type that would think them ugly or repulsive."

Alyssa's voice was strained an high pitched, "Fuck the scars! Who cares about that? I don't even know why he's interested in a scruffy looking, chubby girl like me, but whatever floats his rowboat." She ran her hands through her hair. "He sees the mess of my back and hears this story…he'll think I'm weak. That I asked for it. That I didn't try hard enough." It was only then that she started crying, "He'll think it's my fault." Leliana pulled Alyssa into a hug, making sure to keep her arms around her neck and not her back or waist. The Warden sobbed into her robes. "That's why I keep brushing him off. If he sees…oh sweet Andraste! And I want to, I really, really do. But I'd rather push him away now than have him blame me for this, because it is my fault! It's all my fault. All of it."

Morrigan shook her dark shaggy head. The girl was being irrational. She held no love for Zevran, but even she knew that the elf would not pass judgment. It wasn't him. If anything, Zevran would hunt down the coward and bring back his heart on a spit, just as she was contemplating.

Leliana cupped Alyssa's wet face in her hands gently guiding their eyes to meet. "It's not your fault. That man was depraved. Yes, you stole from him. That much you are culpable for, but that did not give him any right to do what he did. You are a person, not property."

"It's my faul—"

"Not your fault." Their foreheads touched. "Not your fault."

"He wants to be with me." Alyssa was holding on to Leliana's waist. "What am I going to say to him? What do I do? I'm not ready to tell…I…I can't."

Leliana took a step back. She was smiling and the tip of her tongue was peeking out from between her white teeth. "Well…I have a few ideas actually."

Alyssa wiped her eyes with the back of her sleeve. "Uh oh," she allowed a quick chuckle though it sounded like more of a hiccup. "Should I be worried?"

Leliana took off the linen sash that was tied around her waist. She folded it up and placed it into the Warden's hands. "All it takes is a little creativity," Leliana smiled. She pointed to the sash, "Blindfold."

Alyssa's face brightened for a quick moment before she frowned, "But he can still feel them."

"So tie him down or use your magic to push him around."

"I…wow, I didn't think about that."

"Pleasure him. Let him get naked. He seems like the exhibitionist type anyway." She nodded, "Why is it always the women that have to be naked?"

"Oh lord." It was hard to see colors in the low light, but the way the apples of her cheeks rose and the corners of her eyes crinkled, Morrigan could tell she was blushing. She was about to step from the shadows when Alistair and Zevran came blundering through the trees. For an assassin, he could be very heavy on his feet. Of course it was probably to alert Leliana and Alyssa of their arrival more than mere accident.

Concern crossed both of their faces when they saw Alyssa drying her eyes. Zevran punched Alistair in the arm, "Idiota! Why did you make her cry?"

Alistair calmly turned his head to Zevran and said, "You're gonna hurt yourself a lot faster then you're gonna hurt me, little man."

Alyssa chuckled, "Boys, please, you're both pretty."

Zevran nodded to Alistair. When Alistair stepped toward Alyssa, Zevran shook out his hand and massaged the fingers with a wince.

"I'm sorry, Alyssa," he said. "I acted like a, well like Zev said, like an idiota."

"I'm sorry I embarrassed the hell outta you." She took Alistair's hands in hers and touched his knuckles to her lips, hugging his arms.

Zevran nudged Leliana, "I saw it firsthand. Marvelous."

Leliana grinned, "You're a bad man." He waggled his eyebrows.

Alistair shook his head. "If you don't mind me asking, what were you two talking about anyway?"

"We were making little buildings with a deck of cards," Alyssa said. "The one we had going almost reached to the top of the tent before you hauled me out. It fell."

Alistair tipped back his head, closed his eyes and made a 'pfft' sound.

"Yeah. Whatever you heard was way out of context," Alyssa chuckled. She let go of his hands, "Now if you'll excuse me I have a game of 52 pickup to finish." Leliana followed her.

Zevran gave Alistair a sideways glance. "I should probably join her. She may need help handling the 'one-eyed Jack'." He darted back to camp with a grumbling Alistair close behind.

Morrigan finished her rabbit tartar and licked her lips. Shaking the forest debris from her fur, she decided that rabbit tastes better when in a stew and men, overall, were complete fools.


	13. The Girl at the Pearl

It took a full day to get to Denerim and by the time the team rolled in they were all exhausted. On the way, they ran into a band of mercenaries hired to kill 'the little red haired girl.' Leliana had revealed the finer points of her past and planned to seek out her former bard mistress to settle a score. Zevran had often suspected that she was more than met the eye, although he believed that she truly did find some kind of peace at the Chantry.

Bodahn had done his his best to find suitable accommodations, but the best he could get was a shabby inn just off the docks with tiny rooms and a lousy bar. The dwarf kept ducking his head and apologizing, "I'm so sorry, Warden! This was the best I could find for a group this size. Sandal, Ashfur and I can take one room. Everyone else can have their own."

"Don't worry, Bodahn," Alyssa said. "Thank you for making the arrangements."

Zevran listened to Alyssa and Alistair work out what they had to take care of while in the city. First there was the reason they were in Denerim, to find Brother Genitive. Then Alistair asked if they could visit his sister Goldanna since they were in the area. He admitted he had no idea what the woman was like. Zevran had developed affection for the man, but sometimes he could be so naive. He had a feeling it wouldn't turn out well. So be it. It wasn't Zevran's business anyway.

"Let's stop by the Brother's place and see if we can get any answers or clues," Alyssa said. "After that, we can swing by Goldanna's house and deal with Marjolaine. Fair?"

"It would be better if we split up," Sten said.

"I like that idea," Alistair said.

Leliana said, "Wynne, would you accompany me and Ashfur?" Wynne nodded. "That would leave Alistair free to go with Alyssa and Zevran. Sten and Morrigan can follow up with Brother Genitive and we can all be back before twilight." The rest of them agreed and the teams split up.

While traveling about the city, Alistair, Alyssa and Zevran passed by the Pearl. A soft moan of pleasure drifted out of the open windows and reached Zevran's ear. He closed his eyes, grimacing and letting his head fall forward with a frustrated groan. The stolen moments he had with Alyssa were quite marvelous, but they were not enough. He craved that intimate connection, the heat of another person, and the high that followed ecstasy. Zevran slowed as they walked by the front door to the whorehouse and cast a longing look in its direction.

He felt Alyssa at his elbow. She bit her lip before saying, "If...if you want. Well, I can go with Alistair. You can…go in."

His eyes lit up. "Are you certain?" Just a quick release was all he needed to clear his head and get him back in the game.

"I know it's probably been a while," she said, not able to look at him, "and you have needs." She shoved a small purse in his hand. "Look. Do whatever. Just don't come back with a play by play."

He frowned. Alyssa eyes looked a little glassy and there was a flush up her neck and ears. "Are you certain?" he asked again, seeing her unease.

"Yeah..." she walked on ahead, preventing any further conversation.

Zevran closed his fingers over the little leather bag, weighing it in his hands. It was heavy. This could get him the best the Pearl had to offer with a generous tip leftover. Trials of conscience be damned. The last time he had someone in the 'palm of his hand' it was business, not pleasure. Not even slightly.

The Pearl was an upscale brothel. It was beautifully lit with brass wall sconces and chandeliers and thick red silk curtains hung from every shaded glass window. Soft couches littered the room covered in rich fabrics and piled high with cushions with a beautiful woman or handsome man lounging among them smiling to anyone that caught their eye. Even the selection behind the mahogany bar was in fine glass bottles, no clay here. A woman approached him with a smile. "Welcome to the Pearl. My name is Sanga. Is there anything I can I help you with, serrah?" She was a human, tall, lithe, dark hair swept up in a perfect bun and the only one fully clothed, so he assumed she was the madam.

Zevran smiled, "I do hope so, my dear."

"You're from Antiva?" her eyes lit up. "It's not often we have the pleasure of entertaining your fellow countrymen. Please let me know if you see anyone who piques your interest."

He nodded and headed for the bar, looking over the prostitutes stretched out on the couches. Something with a kick was in order. A flick of his finger summoned the bartender. "Something strong, please," Zevran handed him a few coins, two for the drink and one for the bartender. The rim of the glass was cool and smooth against his lips as he sipped the amber liquid. It filled his chest with warmth, relaxing his limbs and sanding down the edges of his tension.

A female voice purred from behind him. "Well I'll be an Orlesian dandy. Zevran Arainai, as I live and breathe."

"Isabella! My siren of the seas," Zevran bowed low to her. When he rose, she stepped forward locking him in a passionate kiss. A hum of pleasure welled up from him, vibrating against her lips. She smelled of salt sea air and harsh whiskey. Feeling her deepen the kiss, he could still taste the alcohol on her breath. A coil of heat just below his stomach started to tighten from the way she pressed her full bosom against him and wrapped her leg around his hips. Suddenly something didn't feel quite right, pleasurable as it was to be in the pirate queen's embrace. He felt his mind stray to thoughts of the Warden and how she would feel in his arms. What would she taste like? How would her curves feel under his fingertips?

Zevran started to pull away. Lips once soft and inviting started to firm. Tongue, once dancing, was retracted. Isabella seemed to notice his reaction, "Did I catch you at a bad time or does my breath smell like a wet Mabari?"

"No, no, nothing like that." He frowned and pulled out one of the bar stools. "Please, let me buy you a drink."

Isabella sat down next to him and motioned for the bartender. He poured her a glass of whiskey which vanished past her lips in an instant. She sipped slowly at the next round. "I've never seen anyone look so troubled in a brothel. Well, maybe virgins. I didn't expect this from you."

"Neither did I. It seems that my life has gotten rather complicated as of late."

The pirate sighed, leaning against the mahogany surface. "Complicated is shit." Zevran nodded and sipped his drink. Isabella dipped her finger in hers, lacing a drop of it around the rim of her glass. "What are you doing in Ferelden?"

The smirk on his face didn't meet his eyes. "It is a long story. I will not bore you with details, but the gist of it is I'm traveling in the company of the Grey Wardens."

"Bullshit."

"I'm as surprised as you are," he said. "It was a contract gone wrong. Hey, even the best make mistakes." He shrugged and tossed back the last of his whiskey. Two more coins on the bar saw it refilled.

"Switching sides I can understand. I'm surprised because they didn't kill you."

"One of them is a bit of a soft touch. She—"

Isabella pursed her lips, "Ah, now I see. Lady troubles. Let me guess. She's the tyrannical type, likes to hold the whip, make you beg?"

Zevran laughed, "Hardly."

"Ok. Then the pious virgin who says 'no' when she means 'yes'?"

"A little closer but still, not really, no." He shook his head, "Does it matter?"

"Uh oh," Isabella smiled cat like in the dim lighting, "she's under your skin, Ser Arainai. You're tangled up in your own net."

He leaned away from the bar, suddenly feeling irritated, "Don't be stupid. If you hadn't noticed there is a Blight coming. If I kill them now, who will stop the darkspawn?"

"Sweet thing, I never said anything about killing." She licked her lips, "Fuck your contract. It's the Warden you want and it's not your blades you want to stick her with." When the bartender came over to refill her glass, she grabbed his wrist, "Leave the bottle." She pulled him close to her, "Meet me in room three in thirty minutes." He grinned and nodded, leaving the bottle with her. To Zevran she said, "You can join us if you wish."

Zevran smiled. He opened his mouth to reply, but could find no words and only shook his head.

Isabella filled his glass with a heavy handed pour. "Zevran, what are you doing here?"

"I don't know." He ran his thumbs over the glass, staring into its amber depths.

"Then why don't you go find her?"

Why? It wasn't so simple. It couldn't be. They had been traveling together for months now and still he felt that there was not enough time and distance between him and his most recent sin. There were too many variables, too much of him that would be exposed. He wasn't ready to risk losing again.

Isabella put her hand over his glass, "Zevran." He looked over at her. "Stop hiding in a whorehouse and go after what you really want." She had the same soft brown eyes as his Warden, the same full Rivani curves and dark hair. But she wasn't his Warden. None of these women were.

Zevran lowered his eyes. "I'm not as brave as I once was, cara."

"A ship is safe in the harbor, but that's not what ships are for."

The assassin chewed on the tip of his thumbnail listening to the soft clinking of glasses and muted conversations around him. After a few long moments of deliberation, he tossed the small purse on the bar top. "Have fun, my pirate queen, and pay your lovers well," he squeezed her shoulder and headed out into the city.


	14. The Art of Falling

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> my Spanish is terrible. this is the best I could do with Google translate (and I'm sad to admit even that). if anyone wants to correct my grammar, please feel free to ping me

Genitive had gotten in over his head. Sten and Morrigan reported that his apprentice had been killed and his identity assumed by someone sending Arl Eamon's knights to their deaths. They had taken care of the imposter and did some follow up work in the Brother's research. Apparently he was on his way to a town called Haven, far to the northwest.

Zevran stole a glance over at the Warden. After camp was set up, Alistair and Alyssa started poring over a series of maps to plot out their course and digging into a bag of dried fruit. They were near Wynne and Leliana's tents, a good distance from the camp fire, and completely oblivious to anything else going on.

A quick whistle summoned Ashfur to his side. The Mabari bounded over with tongue lolling out at the side of his mouth. He nuzzled Zevran with his stubby snout. The elf smiled and said, "Just as we planned, yes?"

"Wuff!" Ashfur barked and wagged his tail. He walked to the opposite side of the fire and waited.

Zevran knelt by the pile of firewood, craft knife in hand, and began cutting off bits of leaves that had not yet been trimmed. A flash of the blade and he jumped up with a shout, holding his hand to his chest. " _Braska_!"

Alyssa was up from the maps and at his side in an instant, "Let me see."

Zevran tucked his hand under his arm, "It's nothing. Only a small cut." He kept moving away, turning his body and commanding her full attention. It made him want to giggle.

"That will be a cold comfort if it gets infected." She took his wrist to inspect the damage, but when she finally got a good look there was no blood or wound. "Oh you lying sack a' sh—"

"Can't keep your hands off me, can you?" The assassin stepped in, closing the distance between them and caressing her hands. "I'm irresistible. It's a curse really."

Alyssa sighed, "Zev, I'm trying to work here."

Alistair waved from the map pile, "I can handle the rest."

"You're not helping," she glared at him.

With Alyssa distracted, Zevran dropped his right hand and made a flicking movement with his fingers in Ashfur's direction.

"Alone at last," he whispered in her ear.

"I'm going to stab you now," she said. "I might not stop."

"Such fire! You know it drives me wild," he grinned. "Besides, I checked. You are not armed."

She lowered her head, flashing a toothy grin, "I don't have to be armed to be dangerous."

"Quite right. Yet here you are, practically in my arms and you're not struggling." Zevran saw the Mabari rear up behind Alyssa. He shifted his weight as she was pushed forward, into his arms and onto his lips.

Finally! After months of flirting and teasing he felt her mouth on his, hot honeyed breath mixing with the taste of her. Excitement filled his chest as he deepened the kiss and wrapped his arms around her waist. The assassin flicked his tongue along her bottom lip feeling her moan under him. He felt the texture of it on his tongue, soft, pliant, swollen. Probing delicately inside her mouth, he tasted sweetness from the dried cherries she had moments before. He could feel her heartbeat thunder against his, her body pressing firmly against him.

The world, all its charms and perils, slipped away for that single moment as Zevran felt every fiber of his being fall weightless into the headiness of the kiss. He felt her starting to pull away and something he tried to hold onto for so long shattered. He whispered desperate, pleading, not caring about walls, "Don't leave me."

"Never," Alyssa said before crashing against his lips once again. She ran her hands around his back and laced her fingers in his hair tracing her nails down the back of his scalp. A thrill fluttered in his stomach. Heat spread from his core up his spine and down his legs causing his knees to tremble. Zevran felt her tugging him forward as she walked back. She started kissing up his jawline to his earlobe. "I have rules," she said, breathless.

"I am very good at following rules." When she started nibbling on his ear, Zevran nearly toppled over from the surge of passion that jolted in him. He felt her push a piece of folded cloth into his hands before they ducked into her tent. She could have told him to pluck the moon from the sky and he would have found a way. Anything she asked of him, she would have, just as long as she allowed him to drown in her embrace and be set ablaze by her kisses. The last thought that drifted through his mind before he completely surrendered to his Warden was, ' _Si vivo un día sin usted en mis brazos, el corazón romperá..._ '


	15. The Better Part of Valor

Leliana rubbed the sleep from her eyes, yawning and stretching. What was that heavenly smell? Morning light shone on her tent making it glow a soft yellow inside. The smell was stronger now and calling to her. She frowned when she noticed Alistair's bed roll was empty and cold. Really that smell was wonderful, meaty and smokey. Bacon! Leliana threw on the first clean shirt and leggings she could find and tore out of the tent. Alyssa had a slab of bacon sizzling away in one large cast iron skillet and a mass of scrambled eggs in another, the smell of it filling the camp and making Leliana's mouth water.

"I love you!" She hugged Alyssa around the neck and kissed her cheeks. "I haven't seen bacon in forever. I almost forgot how it tastes."

"Salty, porky and amazing," Alyssa chuckled. "Picked up a few slabs in Denerim. I'm trying to keep them cold with an ice enchant. We'll see how that holds up."

Leliana snatched a strip on the more done end of the bacon pan, yelping at the heat of it. She blew on it a few times before biting down on it and moaning loudly. "Mmmm! I'm in heaven!"

Alyssa shook her head. "I wanted everyone up and moving as quickly as possible."

"Bacon is a good motivator."

"We've wasted too much time faffing about with my injury and then all the side business in Denerim. Don't get me wrong, I'm glad you and Alistair were able to get closure. I'm annoyed because Brother Genitive is still missing. Another mystery to unravel." She rolled her eyes.

"Speaking of 'heaven'," Leliana said around another mouthful of meat, "is there something that you would like to tell me?"

Alyssa struggled to school her expression, "Don't know what you're talking about."

"You liar!" she slapped Alyssa's arm.

The Warden winced and laughed, "Ow! Shit on a shingle! That hurt!"

"Well?"

Alyssa looked away.

Was that good or bad? Leliana started to think she took it too far. Maybe nothing happened and she was feeling bad about not being able to…

Alyssa lifted her head with a radiant smile and her cheeks full of rosy color, "It was wonderful."

Leliana squealed with delight, drawing stares from others at camp. "I'm so happy for you! You have to give me details."

"Hell no! Are you crazy?"

"Oh come on. That's so not fair. I would tell you about Alistair and me."

"How much bacon would it take to stop that?"

Leliana laughed and grabbed another hot piece, swearing all the way.

"I have an idea," Alyssa said, "It's kind of 'out there', but humor me. How about you wait until after it cools?"

"You're no fun," she licked the grease off her fingers. "Keeping such delicious details to yourself and here we are, practically sisters."

"Hey sis," she winked, "can you keep a secret?"

"Yes!"

"So can I."

"You're a horrible tease, you know that?"

Alyssa laughed, "That's what I hear."

\---------------------------------------------------

Zevran was brushing out Ashfur's coat. Since the weather was getting warmer he started shedding and dog hair was getting into everything. The brushing also helped get some of the funk out of the animal. Wynne had insisted on bathing him the other night and thank the Maker for that, but the hair hadn't come loose with the soaps.

He stood up, admiring his handy work, and was about to compliment the dog when Alistair approached. This could be bad. Although one would think they had straightened things out after the misunderstanding the other night, there was still a crackle of intensity about the Warden as he walked over. It helped that he had not yet donned his plate mail and looked, at first glance, unarmed. He wasn't sure what to say to 'big brother'. Maybe it would be best to let him speak first. Only a smart comment would leave Zevran's lips anyway, not being known for self-control in these situations. A tense moment like this was why he always kept a small blade hidden inside his belt.

Alistair took a deep breath. He looked the assassin up and down. "Just…make her happy."

He felt more relieved than expected. Zevran patted Alistair on the back and squeeze his shoulder. Suddenly, the Warden had pulled Zevran into a bear hug, causing his arms to flail. Leliana and Alyssa looked over, alarm crossing their faces before he could signal a thumbs up to them.

"Come on," Alistair said, releasing him, "they've got tons of bacon and eggs over there and I'm starving. It's going to be a hard push to Orzammar, but if we travel all day we can be there by night fall."

Ashfur looked up at Zevran and snorted as if to say, 'that was close.'

He scratched the dog behind the ears. "You're telling me."

Leliana rubbed the sleep from her eyes, yawning and stretching. What was that heavenly smell? Morning light shone on her tent making it glow a soft yellow inside. The smell was stronger now and calling to her. She frowned when she noticed Alistair's bed roll was empty and cold. Really that smell was wonderful, meaty and smokey. Bacon! Leliana threw on the first clean shirt and leggings she could find and tore out of the tent. Alyssa had a slab of bacon sizzling away in one large cast iron skillet and a mass of scrambled eggs in another, the smell of it filling the camp and making Leliana's mouth water.

  


"I love you!" She hugged Alyssa around the neck and kissed her cheeks. "I haven't seen bacon in forever. I almost forgot how it tastes."

  


"Salty, porky and amazing," Alyssa chuckled. "Picked up a few slabs in Denerim. I'm trying to keep them cold with an ice enchant. We'll see how that holds up."

  


Leliana snatched a strip on the more done end of the bacon pan, yelping at the heat of it. She blew on it a few times before biting down on it and moaning loudly. "Mmmm! I'm in heaven!"

  


Alyssa shook her head. "I wanted everyone up and moving as quickly as possible."

  


"Bacon is a good motivator."

  


"We've wasted too much time faffing about with my injury and then all the side business in Denerim. Don't get me wrong, I'm glad you and Alistair were able to get closure. I'm annoyed because Brother Genitive is still missing. Another mystery to unravel." She rolled her eyes.

  


"Speaking of 'heaven'," Leliana said around another mouthful of meat, "is there something that you would like to tell me?"

  


Alyssa struggled to school her expression, "Don't know what you're talking about."

  


"You liar!" she slapped Alyssa's arm.

  


The Warden winced and laughed, "Ow! Shit on a shingle! That hurt!"

  


"Well?"

  


Alyssa looked away.

  


Was that good or bad? Leliana started to think she took it too far. Maybe nothing happened and she was feeling bad about not being able to…

  


Alyssa lifted her head with a radiant smile and her cheeks full of rosy color, "It was wonderful."

  


Leliana squealed with delight, drawing stares from others at camp. "I'm so happy for you! You have to give me details."

  


"Hell no! Are you crazy?"

  


"Oh come on. That's so not fair. I would tell you about Alistair and me."

  


"How much bacon would it take to stop that?"

  


Leliana laughed and grabbed another hot piece, swearing all the way.

  


"I have an idea," Alyssa said, "It's kind of 'out there', but humor me. How about you wait until after it cools?"

  


"You're no fun," she licked the grease off her fingers. "Keeping such delicious details to yourself and here we are, practically sisters."

  


"Hey sis," she winked, "can you keep a secret?"

  


"Yes!"

  


"So can I."

  


"You're a horrible tease, you know that?"

  


Alyssa laughed, "That's what I hear."

\---------------------------------------------------

Zevran was brushing out Ashfur's coat. Since the weather was getting warmer he started shedding and dog hair was getting into everything. The brushing also helped get some of the funk out of the animal. Wynne had insisted on bathing him the other night and thank the Maker for that, but the hair hadn't come loose with the soaps.

  


He stood up, admiring his handy work, and was about to compliment the dog when Alistair approached. This could be bad. Although one would think they had straightened things out after the misunderstanding the other night, there was still a crackle of intensity about the Warden as he walked over. It helped that he had not yet donned his plate mail and looked, at first glance, unarmed. He wasn't sure what to say to 'big brother'. Maybe it would be best to let him speak first. Only a smart comment would leave Zevran's lips anyway, not being known for self-control in these situations. A tense moment like this was why he always kept a small blade hidden inside his belt.

  


Alistair took a deep breath. He looked the assassin up and down. "Just…make her happy."

  


He felt more relieved than expected. Zevran patted Alistair on the back and squeeze his shoulder. Suddenly, the Warden had pulled Zevran into a bear hug, causing his arms to flail. Leliana and Alyssa looked over, alarm crossing their faces before he could signal a thumbs up to them.

  


"Come on," Alistair said, releasing him, "they've got tons of bacon and eggs over there and I'm starving. It's going to be a hard push to Orzammar, but if we travel all day we can be there by night fall."

  


Ashfur looked up at Zevran and snorted as if to say, 'that was close.'

  


He scratched the dog behind the ears. "You're telling me."


	16. The Deep Roads

The weather held. A bright blue, cloudless sky and a warm sun made their going incredibly easy on the Northern Road to Orzammar. Bodahn and Sandal were not able to keep the quick pace that the Wardens had set and arrived at the Orzammar gates late that night. When Alyssa told the dwarf where they were headed, a somber look crossed his face.

"Is everything ok, Bodahn?" she touched his shoulder.

"Ah, yes Warden." He smiled, a bit strained, "Nothing to worry yourself about. Going home is a little difficult." Bodahn patted her hand. "Don't you worry, dear. We'll be right behind you."

It was only after the team entered the city that they learned Bodahn and Sandal were not permitted to enter Orzammar. Surface dwarves were not welcome underground after they left for the world above. A lot of what Alyssa saw and learned in those lava lit tunnels seemed harsh and unfair to the point of outright cruelty. To be fair, Orzammar was no different than any other city that treated its poor and vulnerable like vermin. They were just more upfront about it. She started to notice that any time they had to deal with nobles or locals they directed their questions at Alistair and tried to ignore her when she spoke up. Not that she would begrudge Alistair taking the lead, but it was a bit rude on the part of the dwarves to dismiss her out of hand. For the most part she was able to shrug it off. The longer they were there, the more it started to grate on her nerves.

Alistair winced when he spoke to her, "I'm so sorry about this. I can tell them to stop."

She shrugged, "What difference would it make? It's just faster this way. We're not going to change their culture anyway. I just want the troops so we can get the hell outta here. There's nothing green down here. Nothing grows."

"There's fungus."

"Ew."

Then there were the candidates for the throne. Joy. Rapture. It was times like this Alyssa wished she knew how to use lightning efficiently and had less of a conscience to stop her. As if their backbiting wasn't enough, each side had fanatics jumping them in the streets trying to kill them for supporting one side or the other. Dust Town was the only place they could avoid those freaks, but the area came with risks of its own. Until Orzammar had a king there would be no aid for the Wardens.

Both Lord Harrowmont and Prince Bhelen asked the Wardens to find their Paragon in the Deep Roads. Neither of them even acknowledged the women in the group and focused solely on Alistair, Sten and Zevran. The anxiety coming from Alistair was palpable. As soon as they were out of the lord's and prince's presences respectively, he would turn to Alyssa and ask her advice even though the answers he had given Harrowmont and Bhelen were sound. "Alistair, you're doing fine," she said. "You don't need me to bless every decision you make."

"But what if I do the wrong thing? I don't want anyone getting hurt or having our quest fail." He ran his hands through his hair.

Alyssa touched his elbow. It was all she could reach. "Look around you. You have backup. We're all adults and we're all working together. You can do this and as soon as we're on our way I can start leading again if that's what you want."

"Maker, yes!"

"Honestly, I think it would help you more if we led together. You've made decisions in the past that worked. Why are you always second guessing yourself?"

He frowned. "I guess because no one ever listened before."

"If you make a choice that sounds questionable, the rest of us will question it. That doesn't mean we doubt you. You all challenge me sometimes and I think it makes us stronger for it. We all have the quest at heart." It seemed to help him relax.

Just before they got to the entrance of the Deep Roads the team was stopped by an ill-tempered, drunk dwarf with fiery red hair and an enormous battle ax. "Stranger! Have you seen a Grey Warden hereabouts? I heard tell that he was setting out to search for Branka on the prince's own orders." He slurred his speech and seemed to have trouble keeping still as his body swayed slightly.

He looked over at Sten. With a sigh, Sten pointed to Alistair and Alyssa. The dwarf scoffed, "Seriously? You two are the Wardens? I mean, the Grey Wardens?"

"At your service," Alistair said.

"Well if you're the best they've got then standards must have fallen way down," he chuckled. "But I suppose that would account for a motley crew like this in Orzammar." He hooked his thumb at the rest of the party who returned looks of varying degree of tolerance, Morrigan being at the lowest end of the scale. However they seemed to him, it didn't stop him from asking for help. "Name's Oghren, and if it's not too much I'd like to ask you a favor."

The Wardens looked at each other and shrugged. Alyssa said, "Go ahead."

"It seems like I'm the only one around here who's still lookin' for our Paragon, Branka," Oghren said. "If you're headin' off into the Deep Roads I wanna go with you."

"No offense," Alyssa said, "but you'll have to give me a good reason to come along. We don't just pick up strays."

Alistair whispered to her, "Yes we do."

She nudged him, "Shh! He doesn't know that."

Oghren was either too drunk or too deaf to notice. "I'm her husband. I'm also the only one who cares about her as a person, not some sodding symbol. I'm not about to leave her to the Deep roads where she can't defend herself. I also know what she was looking for. Betchya neither of those nug-humpers told you, did they?"

"Honestly it was a trial just to stay in the same room with them," Alyssa said, rolling her eyes. "Yeah sure, come on." She waved him forward. "What the hell was she looking for anyway?"

"It's called the Anvil of the Void. The secret to building golems which was lost centuries ago, built in the old Ortan Thaig. All she knew was that it was past Caridin's Cross. No one's seen that thaig for five hundred years."

"We have a map that leads us right to the Cross," Alistair held up a worn scroll of leather.

Oghren nodded, "If we're going, let's get moving. Branka's not going to sodding find herself."

_____________________________________________________

There was no way to tell time in the Deep Roads. An ominous glow emanated from lava flowing in stone carved rivers lining the walls that seemed to climb into forever. No wind stirred, nothing grew and the heat mixed with gloom permeated every corridor and alcove they encountered. Alyssa could feel the darkness close to her skin as if it were a tangible thing pressing against her. Finding Caridin's Cross was easy enough with the map and Oghren was able to find Branka's trail from there.

It was more than once that her new shape-shifting skills were tested against packs of darkspawn. Big shapes were easy. Morrigan had taught her how to shift into a bear which added strength and toughness though slowing her reflexes. Alyssa was able to smash in a few darkspawn skulls when the heavy hitters were out of reach. Feeling the crunch of the bones under her massive paws sent shivers up her spine. Unused to killing, she lost her concentration on holding her form and turned back into her human shape. Ducking behind a rock, she lost the contents of her stomach. She was able to pull herself together before the last body fell to the ground.

From the string of dead littering the tunnels behind them, it must have been a several hours' worth of traveling under their belts. Oghren knocked on Alistair's platemail leg. "We should stop here, Warden. It'll only get harder beyond the thaig and from the look of the layout there should be a source of clean water not far from here. "

"Is it safe enough?" Alistair slung his shield off his back. He looked like he was barely able to lift his sword arm.

"Won't matter soon," he said gruffly, "your pals look like they're on their last legs. I could use a break myself."

"Can you get us closer to the water source?" Alyssa asked. "I don't want anyone getting disoriented in the darkness."

"Sure thing."

It wasn't just a pool of fresh water. It was a hot tub. A waterfall fed it from high up, almost to the invisible ceiling of rock. It was less of a 'fall' and more of a silent river that cut into a towering rock slide, emptying out into a hollow in the stone floor. The water was cold running down the slide and clear to the bottom of the pool. Underneath the floor was a lava flow that was far enough to heat the pool to a wonderfully warm temperature. All of the women voiced their thanks, some in less delicate ways than others.

Zevran laughed, "Ladies first, by all means."

"You peek and I'll stab you," Alyssa threw him a sideways glance. He held his hands up and shook his head.

_____________________________________________________

Sten, Oghren, Alistair and Zevran made camp a short distance from the waterfall and out of its direct line of sight so that those using it would have some semblance of privacy. Meanwhile Leliana, Wynne, Morrigan and Alyssa were lounging in the heated pool, melting into the steam. It was only after an enormous amount of coaxing and promising that Alyssa removed the black under armor that ran from her neck to her ankles. The others couldn't help but exchange concerned looks when they saw the state of her back, arms and legs.

"Before you say anything, no I don't want to talk about it." She slipped into the water quickly. "The scars don't hurt anymore. I'm still here, right?"

"And we're glad of it," Wynne said, smiling at Alyssa. "How is your training coming along?"

"Er…well…"

Morrigan spoke for her, "Slowly. I had hoped we would be further along by this point. If your mind wasn't elsewhere you would have learned much more by now." She rolled her eyes, "I expected better of you."

Wynne frowned, "I have to agree with Morrigan. Your recent infatuation with Zevran is unbecoming a Grey Warden. You have a duty and I think he keeps you from it."

"How?" Alyssa arched her eyebrow, "We're here recruiting the dwarves for the Blight War. If anything is keeping me from that it's these asinine tasks I have to perform before anyone lifts a damn finger to help out. Let's not forget that giving me and Alistair troops to fight the Darkspawn is in everyone's best interest."

"That's beside the point," she insisted. "You are a Grey Warden and he only seems to have one thing on his mind."

Leliana piped up, "And you won't even share the delicious details." She folded her arms, "I'm quite cross with you."

"So, let me get this straight. Each one of you has a gripe with me and now we're going to address all of them, correct?"

They nodded.

"And I'm assuming they all involve Zevran in one way or another?"

Before they nodded they exchanged looks, probably to all get on the same page. Lovely.

Alyssa heaved a sigh. "Fine. We'll take this in order of appearance. Morrigan, shape changing is hard. Really hard. You're good at it because you do it all the time. I have one and a half lessons under my belt and each time Zevran was nowhere to be seen. Get over it."

Morrigan flicked water at Alyssa's face and stuck out her tongue.

"Blag!" Alyssa rubbed her eye. "Wynne, it was one time. One time! And if I didn't have to bend over backwards to get an army together this would all go a hell of a lot faster. That's more of a reflection on the people we're dealing with than any kind of sexual acrobatics he can suggest."

Wynne blushed from her shoulders to her eyebrows. "Andraste's grace, that's not what I meant." She shook her head, "Love is selfish. There may come a time when you have to choose to do what is the greater good or save the life of the one you love."

"You're using the 'L' word a lot here." Alyssa felt anxiety jolt through her. "I never said that I…look don't you think it's a bit early for that? It's just fun. It's Zevran for cryin' out loud. I can't see him being all that picky or—" Then she remembered what he said. 'Don't leave me.' At first she thought she was hearing things, but the look in his eyes as she started to pull away was so full of, what exactly? 'Don't leave me.' It sounded like he was begging. That was impossible. The guy was sent to put a knife in her back; this could be just another tactic to lower her guard. Her father called plays like this 'long cons' because the buildup was long and slow and the outcome could happen weeks or even months after. "Look," Alyssa said, "don't worry about it. I know what I have to do and I'll do it, whatever that means."

Leliana pinched Alyssa's arm and talked over her exclamation of 'sonova bitch', "You kissed, now tell!"

She splashed the bard, "You're the only one who wants to know." A look passed between the other mages. "Oh come on! You both just got through lecturing me about being with him, now you want details?"

"We want entertainment and you're the best thing in this black hole," Morrigan's grin glinted in the half light.

"Et tu, Wynnie?"

Wynne shrugged. Before she looked away, Alyssa caught the smirk and pursed lips that Wynne was trying to hide.

Alyssa ran her hand through her curls and laughed, "Alright, alright." She tilted her head to the side letting her memory slip back to the day before. "It was different than I expected…"

_____________________________________________________

The area set up by the men was not a true camp. They couldn't take the tents or bedrolls with them because of the threat of darkspawn and other nasty creatures in the Deep Roads. The most the team was able to carry were a few pillows, a change of clothes each, dry rations and fresh water. Even then their supplies were limited. Lucky enough, the darkspawn that lived in the dark tunnels left fire pits and wood scattered about, so getting some warmth going was easy enough. Zevran still wished that Alyssa would take care of the fire, but he also thought she should have some time to relax. The team had pushed hard to Orzammar and the way she was received by the dwarves, well, he knew a thing or two about being ignored and treated as a commodity. Speak when spoken to, don't question your betters. He was surprised that the ill treatment of Alyssa irked him as much as it did Alistair.

Murmurs from the pool mixed with the occasional drip of water were the only sounds that could be heard in the cavern. Again the Mabari nestled in behind Zevran. He was glad of it too. They had become quite close and he enjoyed the comfort the dog gave. Sten was reviewing the map they had, making notations in a small leather bound journal, and Alistair was between him and Zevran, feeding small twigs into the fire. A companionable silence had settled among them. They were able to lose themselves to their thoughts instead of feeling pressured into talking for the sake of filling the spaces in between.

Oghren shattered that silence when he crashed to his ass with a flask in each hand. He shoved one of them at Zevran, "Here, take a swig. It'll put hair on your chest. Heh, which you desperately need."

He accepted it with a dubious look. As he raised it to his lips the smell of it caught him. Zevran felt his stomach lurch, "What the hell is this?"

"Best ale that Tapsters has to offer," Oghren smiled broadly. The dwarf was slumping to the side and slurring again. Had he ever stopped? "Snuck round the back and lifted a few barrels. I figured better pack some good stuff if we're comin' down here. Come on ya nug shit. Drink up!"

"Your charms know no bounds, do they?" The liquid sloshed in the silver flask. Oh well, " _Salud_." Right away he knew that was a horrible mistake. The drink was somewhat viscous as it hit his mouth and slithered down his throat hot and choking, tasting like the devil himself pissed it out this morning. He lurched forward in a coughing fit, " _¡Jódame de culo!_ " Oghren and Alistair roared with laughter as Zevran tried to get control of himself. The drink was winning. He leapt to his feet when he thought his stomach was sure to empty out. Thankfully he was able to keep it down. He plopped back on his ass and leaned against Ashfur.

"Come on, little pike twirler," Oghran chuckled, "you're turn. Show us what ya got!" He motioned for Zevran to pass it to Alistair.

"Pike twirler?" The only reason Alistair took the flask was because he was distracted by Oghren. He was so distracted that Zevran could have handed him a bouquet of live snakes. "Where did you come up with that? I don't even have a pike to twirl." Alistair looked at it and the smell hit him, "Maker's breath! You can forget it. Not after that reaction." He tried pushing it back at Zevran.

"Oh come on sissy-girl. Put on your big boy pants and take a gulp. It won't kill ya. Maybe."

The Warden wrinkled his nose. "What did it taste like?"

"Strong," Zevran smirked and left it at that.

Alistair groaned before taking a tiny sip. The teeniest sip he could have possibly taken and still taste it. He immediately spat it out over the fire, gaging and coughing the whole time. Oghran and Zevran howled at him. "You bastards!" he choked, "You total bastards! Andraste's tits! It was like stewed rotted feet and sword oil!" He thrust the flask to Sten.

They quieted down when the Qunari accepted it. He took a decent sized sip, blinked once and said, "This is terrible," then handed it back to Alistair before turning back to his journal.

"Pfft! Party pooper," Oghren said. He looked over at Zevran and grumbled, "Hmph! She would have to go for an elf."

He arched his eyebrow, "She who?" There was only one way for this to go.

"You 'n the Warden. We all know what's goin' on there."

"Oh," he smiled, "Does that make you jealous, my stout little friend?"

"Me? Ha!" Oghren took a long drink from the flask, "Last thing I need is another woman in my life."

"One wife was enough for you, was she?" He looked over at Alistair and they both rolled their eyes.

"Branka was only slightly more woman than I am. Bristle chin poetess."

"Shocking that our fair Grey Warden didn't choose you instead."

"Wonders never cease," he grumbled. A smirk spread across the dwarf's face, pulling the side of his flaming red beard up, "So how was it anyway? Do those freckles go all the way down? Heh ha ha!"

"Oghren!" Alistair yelped, "The girl is like a sister to me. I don't want to hear this!"

Zevran felt a jolt of annoyance. It surprised him at first, since bragging of conquests had always been a favorite pastime. Strange that it should surface now. "I wouldn't know. She had me blindfolded the whole time."

"I really don't want to hear this!" He covered his face with his hand.

"Calm down, Alistair," Zevran said.

"So you didn't see anything? What a waste!"

"It was anything but a waste, my fine dwarven friend. It was…not what I thought it would be."

Oghren snorted, "Yeah? And how's that?"

* * *

Alyssa smiled softly with a dreamy look in her eyes when she remembered that night, "He was so patient. I was worried I'd disappoint him, but he didn't rush me or tease me."

 _On the other side of the clearing, Zevran felt a warm glow in his chest_ _thinking of her. "She was so afraid. I could feel her trembling in my arms."_

"He was so gentle," she put her hand over her heart. "I didn't realize how tender he could be."

 _"She was so shy," he smirked. "For all her fire, her touch was timid,_ _always asking, 'is this right'."_

"He never pushed me. Never coerced."

_"She explored my body, asking questions, savoring each caress."_

"He was funny. He joked about wearing the blindfold, but never questioned why he wore it or tried to take it off."

_"She was so warm, so soft."_

"He was so strong, so beautiful."

_"Her curves fit my hands so easily."_

"His voice filled my ears, intoxicating."

_"It was hard to breathe…"_

"…hard to think…"

_"I just felt."_

"I just was."

_"Her body was arching."_

"He called out my name."

_"I could feel her heart beating."_

"I watched his face reflecting his ecstasy."

_"The tension climbed…"_

"…my heart clenched…"

_"…everything tightened…"_

"…I held onto him…"

**__**

**__**

**_ "…and in that moment, when my world was coming undone,  I let go and felt wash over me that sweet surrender…" _ **

 

 

A feeling of peace and contentment flowed among all of the companions as they listened to the stories being told. For two souls, each with their own fears and scars, to find each other amidst such war and death made them believe, no matter how fleeting, that love might truly conquer all. They held onto that sentiment, barring thoughts of cynicism and doubt from their minds for as long as they could. It was to be their light in dark places.

 


	17. How to be Insensitive

Zevran woke. Silence enveloped the cavern, heavy and thick, making his ears ring. He brushed his hand across the empty space of ground next to him. Puzzling. What did he expect to be there? Everyone else was still asleep. He rubbed his face vigorously. Ever since the other night he had been out of sorts. Usually after a tumble his mind was clear and more focused. This time, however, he was even more tangled up than before.

Her warmth, her scent, the feel of her body under his fingertips, her legs straddling him, all of it came back in a rush that made him dizzy. Zevran pulled his knees to his chest. Inside it felt like someone had struck a tuning fork letting it vibrate painful and unharnessed up and down his biceps. A stubby cold nose pressed into the crook of his elbow. Ashfur whined low. " _Buenos noches, amigo_ ," he put his arm around the Mabari. "Come to say 'hello'?"

Ashfur's brow was furrowed and his big brown eyes should concern in the only way an animal can. He licked Zevran's face lightly all up and down his tattoos. The quick flicks of the doggy tongue tickled and comforted, making Zevran smile in spite of the chaos swirling in his chest. He kissed Ashfur's broad head, "Thank you."

He indicated with a turn of his head for Zevran to look towards the watch post the team had set up. Alyssa was facing out into the web work of tunnels leading away from the cavern they had claimed. She always seemed to be on guard duty even when the others were having their turn. More than once she had relieved someone before their shift was up or she would wait with them, staying away for longer than anyone else. Control. Always control with her.

Zevran dragged his feet as he approached as not to startle her. "Copper for your thoughts?" Ashfur was not far behind.

She smiled and motioned for him to sit with her. The sour shiver that wracked him was quieted as soon as she looked at him. It vanished as he slipped into the space she created for him by lifting her arm and settling against the Mabari. Safe. With her he always felt safe, probably because of that constant control she emanated. When he tried to put his arm behind her to draw her closer, Alyssa moved away, "No don't." The same alarm was in her voice from when he had massaged her head and neck after the run in with the Dalish. It was quite some time since then and for a healer of her caliber that wound should have closed. However, she had rules and he obeyed without question. Zevran instead tucked into her side nuzzling her generous bosom. She wrapped her arms around him, pulling him close.

"I lied to you."

"I'm sure you had a good reason," he smirked. Really, what could she possibly be lying about? The girl was an open book. Any secrets she had would hardly…Then he thought of his own past. Maybe he should hear this. "You know I am the last person to judge,  _cara_."

She was silent for a time. Zevran listened to her heartbeat, feeling the rise and fall of her chest. "I'm really a coward."

He snorted, "And Ashfur is really two dwarves in a dog suit." The Mabari grumbled.

"I mean it," she shook her head. "My whole life I've been running from something. Templars, guards, people wanting to turn me in. Even…," she swallowed hard, "even the bastard who trapped me. I didn't fight. I jumped from the roof looking for death as a way out. I can't do that anymore. If I ran from the darkspawn many would die and they would find me sooner or later."

Zevran looked up at her face. This was a confession. She needed to give voice to the darkness in her mind so it lost its power. "You're not running anymore."

"I'm still a coward."

He thought back to what Isabella told him and finally understood. "In my experience, courage is being afraid but acting in spite of it. Only the stupid and the dead are without fear." He wasn't sure if she believed him, but she smiled anyway.

"When did you get so wise?"

"I can't take credit for that," he said. "A friend at The Pearl gave me a different perspective."

Alyssa's eyebrows twitched upwards, "Sounds like you got your money's worth." Her voice sounded flat. Not judgemental or angry, but apathetic. It bothered him much more that he thought it would.

Zevran sat up. "Nothing happened there,  _cara_."

"It's ok. I told you to go, remember? Besides, I knew what I was getting into with you." She shrugged.

All the warmth and tender feeling he had moments ago was stripped from him replaced by an eerie stillness. "What is that supposed to mean?"

She continued to gaze into the darkness, keeping watch. Again, her flat voice responded, "I'm not so naive to think I'm the only one."

Well if he didn't feel like a whore before she spoke, he certainly did now. He stood up, not knowing which of the turmoil would win out, shame, anger or disgust and yet the words she spoke were true, cruel as they were. What did he expect? More. He expected more and that was his mistake. All his life he had been as content as possible because he never expected to be treated like a person. To hear the one soul who showed him that kindness suddenly say something so cold was cutting, right to the bone. So many things he wanted to say bubbled inside him. The hurt, the anger, the sense of shame was so overwhelming.

"Zevran?" Now she sounded concerned, but he couldn't look at her.

"We should get moving," he said with a tight jaw. "The others are starting to wake." Walls went up. Cloaking himself in a shroud of coldness, Zevran walked into the darkness, not waiting for the others to catch up with him.


	18. Any Means Necessary

Darkness was closing in around her. Being down in the bowels of the earth, nothing but towering stone and lava flows for miles and miles, Alyssa was sure she would never see the sun again. It was a tomb and worse. The things in the deep were very much alive. They could see, they could smell, they could hear her footsteps no matter how muted by the leather boots she wore. Something was creeping into her, filling her with doubt and terror. Her head was riddled with images of her friends being crushed to death, her own blood being squeezed from her body should that rock ceiling decide to come crashing down. A few of the tunnels were so narrow they had to turn sideways and inch through with unyielding stone touching their noses. The confined space made her itch under the skin where she couldn't scratch.

Her temper became short and she could feel nothing but crushing dread all around her. Even Zevran's passion couldn't reach her. When she thought about what she said to him and how it came out, Alyssa knew she made a big mess of things. What the hell did she do that for? He tried to comfort her and she ended up pushing him away. Idiot. They hadn't spoken since then, but because there was no time underground there was no way to tell how long they stayed apart from each other. It felt like days. It could have been only hours. Even so, she had to force herself to feel anything other than imprisoned. Orders were given in short sentences, as if it strained her to speak. If the others felt the same, she paid no heed. Fear was consuming her.

Darkspawn were different down here. They were bolder. They were more ferocious. She was able to put her shapeshifting to the test time and time again. Even Morrigan remarked on how much progress she was making, but any confidence left in her was shattered when she met Hespith. As the dwarf told her story in twisted poetic verse Alyssa's eyes grew wider, her heart racing with each stanza. The other women were visibly upset as well. They shifted where they stood or moved away from everyone else and hugging their arms around their chests. Alistair tried to comfort Leliana, but she slapped at his hand and shuddered. The darkspawn killed the men and kept the women.

They kept them.

They trapped them in grotesque bodies.

They forced them to birth darkspawn day and night until their bodies gave out from exhaustion.

Alistair swallowed hard and since Alyssa made no move to speak or guide the rest of them, he took the lead, "We have to keep going." They obeyed in grim silence, cutting their way closer to the heart of the forgotten thaig.

"... _she grinned and devoured her kin_..."

Black corruption lined the tunnel walls with its filth, oozing out disease with a pungent stink. They walked further on.

"... _we hated as she was violated_..."

Alyssa commanded her body to still. She was a Grey Warden. She was a mage.

"... _broodmother_..."

When they rounded that last corner Alyssa felt the bottom of her stomach drop out. A giant blob of grey and pink with tentacles thrashing out of all sides spread across a large cavern with four tunnels leading off in different directions each one stuffed with darkspawn.

Broodmother.

The word echoed through the terrified mind of the mage Warden, mouth agape as she stared up at the monstrosity writhing before her. A war cry from Alistair, Sten and Oghren shook her loose from its thrall. Alyssa cast barriers around the melee combatants before they broke upon the tide of darkspawn. Fire and ice rained down on the battlefield as arrows from the bard's bow found their target with deadly accuracy. Poisoned daggers sunk deep into the enemy, skulls cracked under the weight of axes and swords. All the while the mage Warden, when not in bear form, showered the group with regenerative magic. Tentacles fell, darkspawn exploded, deeplurkers met their fate in tooth and claw.

More surged from the tunnels.

The team kept pressing the enemy with steel, shaft and sorcery. The two healers spent themselves thin in an effort to keep their comrades going. Blood smeared the floor in streaks and puddles, decorating the walls and combatants. Ashfur was struck down by a thrash from the Broodmother, but Wynne was on hand with saving grace. The pup was back on his feet and into the fray. Enemy arrows sung through the air piercing Leliana's aiming arm. She was spun around by the force and clamored to get away. Alyssa pulled the three missiles from her arm. No sooner was the healing done than Leliana was firing again in rapid succession.

More surged from the tunnels.

Alistair skewed countless deeplurkers with his longsword. His platemail was coated in black and red blood. Three genlocks attacked his flank only to be crushed by Sten's massive broadsword. Oghren charged through the middle making pudding out of anything in his path, such was his berserker rage. There was an elegant ballet being performed by the former Crow assassin as he slipped in and out of shadow, rendering bone from sinew with flashes of his lethal blades. Morrigan spewed venom in the face of the Broodmother, her pincers glistening death in the half light.

More surged from the tunnels.

It was too much. For every one that fell, six raced to fill the empty space. Bodies piled up. There was less and less room to step. The Broodmother swiped at Morrigan, sending her crashing into a far wall and breaking her concentration. She tried to stand, but couldn't force her legs to carry her weight. Oghren was overwhelmed by surge of deeplurkers. The only visible parts of him were flailing arms and legs as he went under in a flurry of snapping jaws. Alistair and Sten were bleeding heavily from gashes on their faces and metal armor that had been pierced through. Wynne and Leliana were back to back trying to fend off another onslaught of hurlocks that had them surrounded. Zevran and Ashfur were nowhere in sight.

More surged from the tunnels.

They were losing.

In the middle of the carnage stood the Grey Warden Mage holding her staff in front of her clutching it with one hand above the other. Red and black blood bubbled up from under her feet emitting an eerie glow in the cavern, reeking of death and metal. It rose in blades of sticky hot spent life sharpening to a razor's edge forcing the incoming enemy to halt in its tracks. A crimson light enveloped her as the blood hardened and turned parallel to the ground. The cavern was illuminated by the light of blood magic. With a massive crack the shards of blood exploded outward impaling everything that was not friend, ripping through them like needles through tissue paper, and felling them like severed blades of grass.

Alyssa slammed her hand on the ground feeling the ooze squish between her fingers. Energy surged forward through the gore towards the Broodmother and from the slime burst forth massive blood spikes hard as stone shredding the monster from the inside out. The crimson glow around the Warden slowly faded out, returning the cavern to its gloomy half-light. She was diminished now, the blood power all spent.

Silence crept into the room. The only living things present were the companions that had been through so much together. Now they stared at her, some open mouthed, some with wide eyed terror. When she fell to her knees no one came to steady her.

Alyssa knew she had broken an unspoken covenant.


	19. Forgive Me Maker for I Have Sinned

Oghren

I don't know what the sodding deal is. We won. We crowned that brat Aeducan king. And Branka…well that mess is over with at least.

The Grey Wardens lived up to the hype, especially the mage. Never seen power like that before and a good thing she acted too. We all would have been meeting our ancestors if she hadn't cut through that, whatever the hell it was. When we got back to Orzammar to choose who would be king, she didn't say anything. In fact, after the battle she didn't speak at all. The rest of them looked took shaken to deal with things, so I spoke up. Never liked Harrowmont anyway. Too stuck in the old ways, but makes no difference now I suppose.

There's not enough ale 'n' tail in Orzammar to make me go through the Deep Roads again. Can't believe it was a dwarf. How could Branka…

Sod it, I need another drink.

* * *

Sten

This country is too free with its mages. The saarebas should be restrained after what it did. Nothing good will come of this, only destruction. Yet the saarebas is still unbound.

This is not the way of the Qun.

* * *

Leliana

She terrifies me. I never thought she would, but that was before I saw her use blood magic.

How could she? It goes against the Maker, against what she, herself, believes but she did it anyway! I try to understand. I didn't want to be violated by the darkspawn, twisted into a Broodmother, birthing spawn and bile, any more than the others, but to turn to blood magic?

I've been bathing since we left Orzammar, scrubbing every chance I get and I never feel clean.

Maybe I'm being a hypocrite. I've sent far more to their deaths, none of it free from sin.

Still, what if she craves more power? What if she decides it's easier to control us than to guide us?

Maker, protect me.

Maker, forgive me.

* * *

Wynne

I've never seen such reckless behavior. A mage of her standing should know better especially after she saw the havoc it caused in the Circle Tower!

How could she? How could she put us all at risk like that? In my darkest hours I never turned to any demon or blood magic seduction. For someone who claims to be a healer she turned to the forbidden arts quickly enough. I wonder if she was always like this and just feigning altruistic.

Maybe…maybe I'm being unkind.

Maybe all the good that she has done and the lives she has saved outweigh this one act of madness.

My worry is the taste of power. Incredible destruction and violation come at the hands of blood mages. I have seen enough of my friends made tranquil for lesser offenses. I think back on Conner, Irving, Zathrian, even the young castless dwarf. She helped all of them with no expectation of reward. She helped because it was the compassionate thing to do. I just hope it's her compassion that will override the sway of blood magic.

I hope she is that strong.

* * *

Ashfur

My lady has sad. Cannot help. Want help, but cannot. I has sad.

My lady strong. Saved me, saved friends.

Friends has afraid. Friends stay away from my lady. Not understand. My lady mends. My lady saves. My lady loves. Not understand.

Elf friend has sad. So much sad. My lady and elf friend apart. Before, always together, now apart. Be together. Not understand.

I comfort elf friend now. I comfort my lady after, I hope.

* * *

Alistair

I wonder if I ever knew her at all. From day one she's kept her secrets, telling only bits and pieces. She could have been a blood mage all along! How would we know? The little girl act was a perfect cover, wasn't it? She'd play all sweetness and light and like an idiot I ate it up. Now who's mistrustful? I opened up to her, baring all of my secrets, risking losing her friendship and she still won't let me in!

Maybe that's a good thing. Maybe it wasn't such a bad idea to have a wall between us. Less chance of her snaking into my mind and controlling me from the inside out.

I loved her. Now I don't know what she could be hiding.

She hasn't spoken since Orzammar. Since the Broodmother, really. Oghren had to speak for us when we presented the crown. I had no stomach for it. Too sick with what I had seen to care about anything but putting distance between us and the Deep Roads. She never took her eyes off the floor.

I feel like I'm dying inside. I miss my little sister, but I'm afraid of her. If she ever hurts Leliana, I'll…If she dares touch a hair on her head I'll…

I'll kill her. I would.

And I would hate myself forever.

* * *

Morrigan

Mother showed me blood magic when I was young. The power of it horrified me at first, but I was able to get used to it. She said, 'Power in and of itself is neither good nor evil. It is the wielders who make it so.'

I trust Alyssa. She is…nothing like me. He light is bright and true. There is no reason for the others to fear her, but what can be said to change the minds of the willfully ignorant. They are content to cast blame without realizing what she sacrificed to save them.

A healer using blood magic. I do not envy her. Her conscience will haunt her steps for the rest of her life.

Besides, we all have our secrets.

* * *

Zevran

I was frightened for her. Her eyes…her eyes were red. Not to say it was the color of her eyes. Rather, the brown irises rested in a field of red. She looked almost possessed by another soul. Like the Arl's boy, except she was the only entity housed in her body. It is hard to describe because it was so confusing to see. She was still there, thinking and seeing. It made the harsh words from the day before almost meaningless, seeing her wield such a terrible force against a horde of enemies.

I thought I had lost her to the madness.

After we met, I regarded her as too soft, vulnerable because she would not fight. Yet it was that tenderness I kept seeking out. Why, I do not know.

I did not understand how great an effort it was holding back that kind of power. How strong she is. Part of me wonders why she would want to deal with me at all.

A good-for-nothing snake that allies himself with the biggest and strongest to save his own hide.

A leech.

But this is not about me. Not this time. For once in my life I feel part of something bigger than myself. Because of her I can dare to look back and say 'her' name once more even though my sin can never, should never, be forgiven.

Rinna.

She said things like that. She asked me once, 'Don't you wish you could be more? Shine brighter? You could be part of something greater than this.'

I haven't been able to think of her in a long time. Not after I abandoned her. Not after I betrayed her. Something about Alyssa, I don't know, I think something healed? Is that right? Is it even possible or am I just fooling myself?

Now it is not important, because right now isn't about me. If Alyssa is to come out the other side of this, she will need a reason.

I hope I am worthy enough to help her find it. Me, the son of whore and product of assassins.

I might not be enough.

* * *

Alyssa

Duncan should have left me there.


	20. The Only Way Out is Through

It was Wynne's turn to cook. Morrigan served up two bowls of the tantalizing vegetable soup that was bubbling away in the cook pot. Her eyes scanned the camp for Alyssa. Since the mess in Orzammar, the Warden had kept a low profile not speaking to anyone, keeping to herself and taking watch alone. The others seemed fine with this, relieved even. Fools. The fact that they were alive and able to avoid her should be a reason for celebration alone. She shook her head and joined the Warden on her solitary guard.

"You need to eat," Morrigan shoved a bowl into Alyssa's lap before taking a seat next to her.

Alyssa stared off into the darkness. "Not hungry."

"You're being childish," she said. "Depriving yourself of dinner will help no one. You are a Grey Warden, start acting like one." Morrigan forced a spoon and a hard chunk of bread into her hand.

Alyssa gazed into the soup, swirling a corner of the bread in it. There were dark circles under her eyes. She probably hadn't been sleeping well, if at all. "Don't you ever get tired of being right?" Slowly, the shadow of a smile formed on her face.

Good. She wasn't as stupid as Morrigan thought. "Tomorrow we continue your training. I think you're ready for the more advanc—"

"No!" Alyssa plunked the bowl down in front of her, spilling some over the lip of the bowl. She gestured as she spoke, "No training, no fighting, no more magic."

"Are you insane? You can't just put down your magic. It's a part of you."

"I won't risk losing control again. I could end up hurting someone."

"That's the whole point," Morrigan scoffed. "You're supposed to hurt people who want to hurt you. I thought we went through this already."

"I'm not cut out to be a Warden. Duncan made a mistake."

Morrigan slapped the back of Alyssa's head. Her shout drew the attention of the others. "Shut up you stupid girl! Finish your food and meet me in the clearing. If you say one more word I'll set you on fire, do you understand?"

She nodded vigorously, staring at Morrigan with wide eyes.

"I won't let you wallow in self-pity just because you had a bad day. You are stronger than this. You are better than this. I'll not have you reduced to a simpering wretch. It's pathetic and exhausting. Ten minutes!"

"Yes ma'am!"

Disgraceful. The only way out of this mess was straight through it and if she couldn't handle it then what good would following her to the archdemon do?

Before Morrigan got back to her side of camp she was stopped by Wynne. "I do hope you won't be training her any further." The Wilder Witch and the Circle Mage had come to a cool but mutually respectful relationship during the course of their travels together. However, this was territory that Morrigan was far more knowledgeable. She guessed that if Wynne had her way, Alyssa would have been made tranquil already.

"Stay out of it, old woman." Morrigan glared. "You know nothing of this."

Wynne would not be dismissed so easily, "She is a blood mage. She doesn't need more aggressive spells. She needs to learn control."

"Control is all she knows! She was cornered. She fought back. Should we condemn her for that?" Morrigan refused to be bullied by the preachy Circle mage.

"Her actions put us all in jeopardy."

"How fortunate we have the privilege of being able to argue about it."

Wynne paused for a moment. Her face softened, "What happened at the Circle is still to near. The thrall of blood magic is so tempting, so powerful. I fear that she will get hooked on that feeling and crave more and more of it. Before you know it, she'll be fording a river of death, possibly leaving people she once loved in her wake." She swallowed hard, her face strained with worry. "It is so tempting to submit to the easy nature of destruction instead of working with the power of creation. I don't think you give blood magic enough credit for its power."

"I don't think you give Alyssa enough credit for hers," Morrigan said. She nodded, "I do understand your fear, but if you believe that one taste of that magic is all it takes, then she will need our guidance and our support, all of us, so that she has the strength to resist and a reason to work with creation."

It was as if the burden the elder mage carried was suddenly shared. The witch hated to admit it, but Wynne was right just as much as she. There needed to be balance in the Warden. There was none.

If she was waiting around for a hug, she'd be waiting forever. A delicate nod was all Morrigan would give. Really, the unnecessary touching was just...ick!

* * *

Alyssa was stopped by Wynne on her way to meeting Morrigan for training. "Warden, would you humor me for a while?"

She felt a cold sweat break out on the back of her neck, "Yes." She braced herself for the worst. Yelling, lectures, could...could she be grounded at this age? No. She lost the right to be light hearted when she... Never mind.

"How are you my dear?" Wynne squeezed her arm gently and smiled.

"I..." Alyssa was taken aback, "I'm ok? I think?" What was she playing at?

"Have you been able to sleep at all since," Wynne looked away for a moment.

Alyssa finished for her. "Yeah, a little."

They stood in silence, awkwardly looking elsewhere or rubbing their arms. The tension was palpable. Finally Alyssa broke the silence, "I'm not a blood mage. Yes, I used blood magic but it was...horrible." She shuddered. "It felt like everything dark and hateful welled up inside me, threatening to take me over and tear everything apart. That's not what I am, Wynne. I don't ever want that."

"What do you want?"

Alyssa smiled, "A little house by the sea, with a pen full of sheep and a little plot of land to grow strawberries and lettuce." It was true. Leave everything behind and just escape. Grab Zevran and Ashfur and run off somewhere the Wardens, the Crows and responsibility couldn't find them. "So much for that," she shrugged.

Wynne exhaled deeply, worry lines smoothing back from her face. "That is so good to hear you say. Well, not the running away part."

"I know," she laughed. "Don't worry. I have a job to do. I won't run. Not this time." Her chest didn't feel so heavy anymore. If Wynne could understand, if she could trust again, maybe the others could too? Baby steps. It wasn't like she took the last strip of bacon from the cart and this might even be beyond the healing power of bacon. Was it too soon to be funny? It felt wrong still.

"I think you should talk to everyone together," Wynne said, pulling Alyssa's thoughts back. "They're all a little scared or confused. I can't tell which. No one has been talking to each other or laughing like we used to. It's not good for morale."

Alyssa nodded. "I have a lot of explaining to do I suppose." She said after a pause, "Wynne?"

"Yes?"

"Thank you."

Wynne smiled, "You're welcome."

* * *

Alyssa wondered if they gathered because they wanted to or because they were afraid of what she would do if they didn't. Or did they gather because together they could overpower her. She pushed the thoughts from her mind. If she wanted their trust, she would have to trust them too.

No more secrets.

No more half-truths.

She told them how her father died, beaten at the hands of the Denerim Guards. She told them how Lord Bennett had trapped her, had her tortured. She told them why she jumped from the roof and how Duncan saved her. When she finished, she folded her hands in her lap, "If you have questions I'll answer as best I can."

Oghren hadn't touched his ale since she started talking. He was the first one to speak, "You didn't die from that? How?"

"My mother trained me in medicine and healing magic. I can't remember how I learned the self-healing technique. I guess it just sort of came to me?"

Wynne responded, "It is possible for someone who is aligned with the healing school of magic to have their bodies, how can I put this?" She thought for a moment. "When you can do something really well, sewing, crafting, cooking, your fingers know what they need to do."

He nodded. He was actually paying attention, hanging on her every word. It was…so not him.

"It's the same with healing magic. The energy that flows through the body that is used for such a purpose 'learns' how to manifest."

"Is that why fire surrounds you in anger?" Sten asked.

Alyssa shook her head, "Nah, it's just a thing I do when I'm pissed. Been doing that since I was a kid." She smirked, "Dad hated it."

Oghren said, "So did, eh what was his name?"

"Duncan," Alistair said.

"Right. Did he fix you up?"

"He took me to the Chantry actually," Alyssa said. A few eye brows rose. "I don't know how many days I was unconscious, but when I woke up there were several Templars and Lord Bennett near the foot of my bed. Duncan was invoking the Rite of Conscription. At first I thought it was out of pity for me. It wasn't until later that I realized, he wanted my healing power."

Wynne asked, "Did that bother you?"

"Fighting darkspawn was much more appealing than marrying that  _stronz_." She smirked a little, "So was jumping off a roof though..."

They were silent for a time. It was hard for Alyssa to tell what they were thinking. The stars above were glittering and the fire crackling cheerfully was the only sound filling the gloom. Alistair broke the silence, "You could have used blood magic then. Why didn't you?" he looked straight at her, pinning her with his stare. His mouth was set in a grim line, so unlike his usual jovial manner. For a moment, Alyssa mourned the loss of her Alistair and hoped it was only temporary.

"A few reasons," she said. "First off, it's always easier for me to be someone else's champion and harder to be my own." She looked away but he was still watching her. "The first week I thought it would be over soon. How long could he put someone through that? The second week I thought someone would come for me. They must have heard my screaming, right?" Alyssa closed her eyes and exhaled, "The third week I thought I could get loose from the bonds, so I tried several enchantments, but nothing freed me. He saw that I was a mage by this point. I don't know if it made things worse." She closed her eyes but kept talking, "The fourth week I thought I would die soon. I hoped I would." Alyssa stilled; the same eerie stillness that would take over when the realness was just too much to bear. "The fifth week I thought nothing." Again there was a heavy pause. She expected, hoped, that Alistair would take her in his arms again like he did the first time she tried to tell him what happened. He didn't.

Morrigan broke the silence this time. "If you hadn't used blood magic since then, why did you use it in the Deep Roads?"

"This was different," Alyssa looked up at her. "We were being overrun. If we died, nothing would stand between Ferelden and the Blight."

"I know Duncan would say 'any means necessary'," Alistair said, running his hands through his hair and holding the back of his head, "but Alyssa, blood magic? It's so extreme."

"I don't want to use it again," she reassured. "That power was out of control. I didn't feel like myself. It scared me."

"I don't believe you." Every head in the camp turned to the person who spoke. It was Leliana. "I don't believe a word of it. You could be using your magic right now to convince us that what you're saying is true and we wouldn't even know it!"

Tears sprang to Alyssa's eyes. Her voice was strained, "I wouldn't do that, Leliana, you know that!"

"I don't know you at all," she leapt to her feet and made for her tent.

Morrigan sighed, "Did anyone else catch the irony there?"

"Shut up," Alistair rose to his feet, "don't make it worse." This time he did go to Alyssa, kneeling by her side and drying her tears. "Let me talk to her."

"Don't. I don't want anyone convincing her. This is something I have to prove by deed, not word." Her shoulders started to shake and she covered her face. Alistair wrapped his arms around her, murmuring to her.

It would be ok.

He was sorry this happened.

He thanked her for saving his life and begged her not to turn to blood magic ever again. She couldn't answer for the sobbing. He smoothed back her hair and when she could finally speak she whispered, "Is Zevran still here?"

Alistair grimaced in sorrow, "No. He left some time ago."

She buried her face in his shirt and cried bitterly.

* * *

He was going to kill him.

As soon as they got to Denerim Zevran was going to find this Bennett  _culo_  and kill him. That was all there was to it. No grand display of anger. No dramatic speeches to give. Just a slow blade laced with the most pain inducing poison he had on hand dragged across that  _culo_ 's throat. He would watch him bleed for a while and then leave. Done and dusted, as his old Crow master used to say.

After she had finished her story, he had made up his mind what he was going to do. Ashfur had gone with him. Good thing too. Though Zevran's eyes were keen even in the dark, the Mabari could see the ground better and helped him get his footing through the undergrowth as they traveled deeper into the forest. He knew exactly what he was looking for and the glow from the moon above, swollen to fullness, lit his way.

Finally he knew why his  _amor_ felt the need to hide herself. He understood why she felt such shame. He would fix it. He was good at fixing things like this. Just as he helped Isabella take her ship, he would help Alyssa take back whatever was taken from her.

Confidence?

Spirit?

Those weren't the right words. She always had that. There was something missing, but it was hard to name it. He thought of what he knew of her, what he adored about her until he figured it out.

Her light.

As he found the word he was looking for, so did he find the place he was traveling to. "Perfect." He drew his blades and went to work.

* * *

Alyssa trudged back to her tent, all cried out and exhausted. Alistair held her the whole time. There was no way she would ever use blood magic again, not risking that perfect love that she had with her brother-in-arms. At least she hoped she could keep that promise. If it meant extra sessions with Morrigan, so bet it. If it meant additional training with Wynne to boost her shielding and defensive spells, that was fine. It was so late and she was so weary. Zevran was still nowhere to be found. He probably decided that taking his chances with the Crows was better than traveling with a blood mage.

She felt a stab in her chest. By saving his life, she lost his love and it was ripping her to shreds. All these melancholy thoughts tumbled in her head Alyssa crawled into her tent.

" _Buenas noches, mi amor_."

Alyssa nearly jumped out of her skin at the sound of Zevran's voice. Her emotions were so raw that the shock nearly made her burst into tears again, but seeing him sprawled out in her tent with nothing but a worn blanket stretched across his lap confused the hell out of her. A hysterical giggle escaped. "What the fu…" He was surrounded by flowers. She had created a spell that allowed small pin points of light to illuminate the tent, saving the trouble of candles. It was the only way she could see.

They weren't your typical roses and daisies. These were small, delicate things linked by green tendrils winding around each of the tent's flimsy excuses for poles and hanging from the ceiling. Normally a girl would be all aflutter at seeing her 'room' decorated with flowers, but these?

Along the floor there were stems of foxglove in a rainbow of colors, their delicate blossoms slender and soft. Mixed in were bouquets of belladonna and lily of the valley, bunches of tiny purple and white flowers cuddling together. Further up the tent were different kinds of horn shaped flowers of nightshade and angel's trumpet hanging in clusters along with white oleander and mistletoe. She stared in awe. This was the most deadly collection of poisonous flowers she had ever seen in her life, and yet she was not scared or repulsed. "Zevran," she whispered, as if raising her voice any more would wake the silent killers, "do you know what these are?"

He nodded, "They are the tools of my trade and the texts from which you will learn, if you so choose."

"But," she crawled further into the tent, staring at the blossoms, "but why?" Alyssa ran the tips of her fingers along the foxglove. The multi-colored blooms bounced in the low light. A heady scent filled the cozy space, making her feel warm and drowsy.

Zevran brushed the back of his hand against her cheek, "Life and death are two sides of the same coin. To have mastery over both, you must understand both." He guided her eyes to his. Gold locked with brown. She saw the same predator now as she did the first night when he was taken prisoner. The heat from his skin so close to hers. The light catching the sinuous lines of the tattoos on his face, shoulders, running all the way down underneath the folds of the blanket over his lap. He ran his thumb along her bottom lip. "Up until now, my beautiful Grey Warden, you have only studied life, the restoration and protection of it. It has become necessary to study her twin so you may master that as well and become stronger in each school."

It was getting very difficult to think, what with her heart racing and the blood pounding in her ears. Her desires were sparked as she remembered his touch on her body, running his hands over… "Hang on," she shook her head, "all of these plants kill. How is that going to strengthen my healing? I don't see the connection."

He stroked the pink slipper flowers. "Too much of the demure foxglove can stop a man's heart or make it burst open. Just the right amount can regulate the beat of the sick, saving him."

He cupped star shaped white blooms in his palm. "The sap of this beauty, oleander, constricts the blood and damages the nerves. Death is long and painful, ending in a shuddering moan. However, a skilled alchemist can treat those with wasting diseases for which we are without names." He pointed to clusters of white berries nestled in thick dark green leaves with points on the ridges. "Mistletoe has the same effect."

He tickled tiny purple buds that were paired with the delicate pearl shaped petals of the lily of the valley. "Deadly nightshade they dubbed this little terror. In Antiva it goes by the name belladonna. It can calm the most incredible pain, but too much of it will wrap you in an eternal slumber."

Zevran turned his golden gaze back to her. "These plants can be used for life or death. It is the balance of those two elements that give them their awesome power."

Alyssa pointed to the angel's trumpet and lily of the valley, "What about these and the others you didn't mention? What can they heal?"

"Absolutely nothing."

"So why show them to me?"

"Which are you more impressed by? The blooms that only destroy utterly or the ones that hold sway over both creation and destruction?"

Her eyes lit up. She finally understood. This was why she needed to learn combative magic, why she needed to face death instead of warding it or running from it.

He must have seen the 'ah-ha' moment on her face, because he grinned like the cat who got the pigeon. "Now my sweet  _terosa_ , are you willing to become my student?"

"Yes, master," she smiled, blushing deeply and enjoying the thrill of passion shimmying up and down her legs.

"Good. Lesson number one: Let go of that which you fear. Embrace it and it cannot hurt you."

Alyssa paused. What could she do that would be an embrace of fear? There was no immediate threat, deadly flower laced tents notwithstanding. How could she learn from this? It came to her then and she frowned. He didn't run when she used forbidden magic and he didn't run when she told her story in full. She did as instructed.

Alyssa turned her back to him and pushed the dark blue robes from her shoulders. With a hard swallow, she pulled the black cloth under armor up over her head, baring her back to him. It had been so long since she could stand to look at the damage through clouded grimy mirrors. There was no telling how bad it was. No telling how ripped up and mangled her back looked. Silence.

She felt warm lips kissing her skin tenderly, slowly, wandering up and down her wounds. Every inch of her was touched by his mouth, from her shoulders to the very tip of her tail bone. Now and then he would flick his tongue against her. After every five or six kisses he would whisper, ' _Mi bella. Mi amor. Mi terosa.'_  The soft pat of her tears against her robes filled the space in between his words of adoration. Her voice was heavy, "What is lesson number two?"

" _Mi amor_ ," Zevran gently tipped her against his outstretched arms and gazed into her eyes, "for today, class is dismissed." Relief flooded her as his lips met hers. She closed her eyes embracing the desire awakening inside her as his hand traveled down her body.


	21. Spending Time in Wonderland

Zevran traced a circle with his fingers around Alyssa's bellybutton. "With your permission, I'd like to see how far down your freckles travel." The heat of her skin made the hair on the back of his neck tingle.

She put her hand over his eyes. "I swear to the Maker."

"Yes, you do. Often." He grinned, but did not move her hand. " _Cara_ , you need not be shy with me. Was I not vocal enough the first time I cried your name into the night as you—"

"Don't say it!"

He clucked his tongue, tsk tsk-ing at her, "What has changed to make you blush so?"

"Well... you couldn't see me last time."

"You've shown me your scars," he shrugged, "they do not frighten or repulse me. Scars tell a story. Yours just happens to be a sad one."

He listened. Only the soft sound of her breathing and shifting about met his ears. She was hesitating. Finally she said, "It's not just that. I...I tend to jiggle a lot."

He smiled, "I know. I like it when you jiggle." He tickled up her sides, stopping short of her breasts as she squealed for him to stop. It was obvious she was enjoying herself, but there was still a self-conscious sound to her voice.

"I jiggle in the wrong places. It's ugly."

"Stop that." Now he did move her hand, his voice firm, "I'll not have you saying such things about the voluptuous goddess stretched out before me." This kind of thought was harmful and completely false. "Who put this into your head? Was it that  _culo_?" Zevran could feel his blood turn to ice as the mention of the other man invaded their moment.

She shrugged and rolled her eyes a bit, "He did, but ...I don't know. I've always been shorter than other women. More round, more, you know, chubby. Dad said that I took after the women in his homeland. That I should be proud."

He nodded, "He is a wise man. Why did you not listen?"

"He was my father. He had to say that."

"And me?" he ran his fingers around the shell of her ear, "I say it."

"You say that about a lot of people."

Zevran sighed, "Words don't work with you. I'll just have to prove you wrong. Again." He watched her mouth twitch up into a hesitant smirk before blossoming into a wonderful smile. Those candy pink lips of hers were so tempting, so full and ready for him. A thrill danced up his chest when she turned her face from him, curls bouncing across her cheeks.

He tucked her brown locks from her face before reaching behind her to retrieve the blindfold. She motioned for him not to put it on, but he waved his finger slowly. With care, Zevran wrapped the piece of dark linen first around his wrist and then around hers, leaving it slack enough so that they could turn their wrists about if needed. He laced his fingers with hers. "This is for guidance, not dominance. If you are ill at ease at any point please tell me and I will stop. No questions asked."

She nodded, "I trust you."

They moved in a sensual ballet, exploring and touching, kissing and embracing. Their arms entwined and their lips met many times interrupted only by little moans and gasps of pleasure. She couldn't help but laugh when he would smirk and whisper naughty things in the semi-darkness. It was all part of his plan. Make her laugh, make her feel safe, make sure she could never forget him for she had certainly made her mark on him as real as his tattoos winding their way up and down his body.

He never let her head fall to the bed roll without his hand to guide it gently down. Their touch became more focused with Zevran's guiding hand bound to hers. Their kisses found marks other than lips. His silent instruction took her through one position after the other, asking if each was to her liking until they found mutual pleasures.

Thought for their surroundings were drowned out in a spin of ecstasy and harmony of passion filled murmurs. Their desires crested as they called each other by name over and over again, one after another reaching their peak and settling down to finally let their bodies cool, coils of lust all spent.

Zevran pulled one of the ends of the cloth binding them together. Though it was undone, neither wanted to disentangle their fingers from each other. He ran his free hand through her hair, letting his mind wander. It wasn't something that he let himself do after making love and now that he could, found that he rather liked it. People called this 'afterglow' didn't they? "What were your parents like?" he asked.

"Mom was nervous a lot, but she was fun," he felt the apples of her cheeks firm up against his chest. "There was an old tin kettle and a beat up metal tray that we had in the old place, before dad and I had to run everywhere. One day she polished them to a mirror shine and had a little tea party with me. She called it silver tea. It was wonderful." Alyssa's fingers wandered along the lines of his swirling tattoos adorning his chest.

"It sounds marvelous," he kissed the top of her head. He wondered about his own mother. Would she have made him toys? Held his hand during a thunderstorm? "And your father? Do you think he would have approved of us?"

"Oh he would have hated you," she laughed.

"What?" He feigned being offended. "A fine upstanding youth such as me? What is there to hate?" He squeezed her ass and grinned.

"Aside from you manhandling his baby girl?" She tickled his ribs, "Let's see...hmm... I think the whole assassinating thing would have been a mark against you."

"Not the stealing and lying thing?"

"Pot, meet Kettle." Her fingers traveled the swirls from his nipple to his navel. "He was a rogue himself, you know. He met my mother when he was trying to steal potatoes from grandpa's barn. Fell from the loft and broke his leg. She heard the crash and went out there with a cast iron skillet ready to bash in his head."

"Maker's Breath, she could have killed him with a good crack from that." Zevran chuckled low in his chest.

"I know. So did he. So he turned on the charm and did the big puppy eyes routine. In the dark it was a bit hard to pull off, but when she got the lamp lit to see clearly they were both done for. Love at first sight."

"How long were they together?"

She smiled, "Fifteen years."

"That must have been some fall." He wondered if his father loved his mother. Was the woodcutter she ran off with even his father? Zevran said, "You make me think of things, cara. Thoughts I'm not sure if I should entertain."

"Is that bad?"

"I'm not sure. It's different, that is certain."

"I'm sorry."

"Do not be sorry. They are bittersweet, not painful as such." He kissed her forehead. "I only meant that in the Crows, tender thoughts were discouraged."

"That's putting it softly," she said

"Soft as cheese left in the summer sun."

"Good gods that's disgusting!" They laughed and kissed each other. He wished the moment would last forever.

Alyssa snuggled into him, but there was something somber about her tone when she spoke. "He almost sent me to the circle once." Zevran stayed quiet, at first not knowing what to say. This was a surprise. "I didn't blame him. I tried not to."

"Why would he do such a thing after trying to keep you away from them?"

"I think he was tired of running. Tired of hiding," she frowned. "Mom was killed by the Templars because she wanted us to get away. In a sense, I'm responsible for his love being killed."

Guilt. It haunted both of their footsteps, it seemed. "She chose to protect you both. It was very selfless." He looked into the distance, "She loved you."

"Still," she said, "maybe I should have let them take me. She would be alive."

"And forever miserable." He lifted her chin, "Your father obviously changed his mind."

"We were on the shores of Lake Calenhad looking toward the Circle Tower. He said it would be a better life for me. No running. No hunger. He would visit." When she blinked tears ran down her cheeks. Zevran kissed them away one by one, pausing long enough between them for her to continue her story.

"A few of the Templars were eating their lunch on the dock nearby, talking about the mages they were supposed to keep safe. Ten minutes of listening to them joke about how they initiated the 'pretty ones' was all it took to have my father change his mind. He didn't stop apologizing until later that month."

"We all have a moment of weakness,  _cara_ , when the world seems too much to endure." He swallowed hard. "At least he was able to follow his heart in the end."

"I blamed myself for so long. First mom, and then dad, and then with," she shivered, "being trapped. It was only recently that I've come to realize, these people wanted us dead and we did nothing wrong. It's their depravity that is at fault, not our desire to stay together as a family."

Thank the Maker one of them could forgive themselves. Otherwise it would be one tragic memory after another and wounds that would never heal. Hearing her talk about her past made him wonder if she would blame him for Rinna. Maybe she could help him find a way to forgive himself. Maybe he even deserved it. Or maybe he was just a scoundrel that didn't deserve such happiness in his arms. Well too bad for fate. She was with him now and he intended to keep her happy and alive, whatever that entailed.

They were silent for some time until Alyssa asked him, "Am I...ok?"

"How do you mean? Are you feeling well?"

"I mean," she paused and her fair skin flushed dark red from her eyebrows half way down her body.

"What's this?" Zevran laughed, "Again my goddess is bashful? Twice in one night. I must really be something."

She closed her eyes, "Well, ok, so I've only ever 'been' with one other person, so I just hope that I, I mean. I hope that...why is this so hard?"

Zevran snorted, "I can't help it,  _cara_. When you touch me like tha—"

"Not what I meant!" she shouted over him before dissolving into giggles.

"There is no shame in having only one lover," he said. "It's very cute."

She sighed, "I don't want to be 'cute', I want to be sexy and ...whatever other words there are to describe it. I know what being a flute feels like because you do what you do so damn well. I wish I could return the favor."

"Well now, I suppose I could tutor you in the ways of lovemaking as well as poisons." He rubbed his chin, "I think I see why your father would not have approved." He tickled her lightly to hear her giggle and watch her squirm. The rush of warmth was marvelous. "Tell me about your first time, my dear. All the delicious details." He grinned slyly and straddled her waist letting his blonde hair sway against her skin.

Alyssa covered her face, "Oh lord, I can't do that. So embarrassing!"

"Why, because you chose to feel pleasure that we are all entitled to?"

"No, because it was a comedy of errors."

"Now this I need to hear," he waggled his eyebrows, making her blush more.

"Ok, the short version is..." she shook her head and muttered, "can't believe you're asking me this. Dad had set up camp in the wilds. You could hardly call it a village. It was more like a collection of farm lands and small houses spread out over so many miles. While he was out hunting I headed for a small farmstead looking to see if anyone needed a healer or if there was anything I could 'pick up' along the way. He said it wasn't stealing if you only took what you needed to get by. That meant no silverware, no shiny baubles and definitely no coin, not ever. He was very strict about that."

"Why?" Zevran asked.

"The farmers and villagers had precious little to begin with. All we really needed was clothing, food and shelter."

"Thief's ethics. Your father was more honorable than most."

"He grew up scavenging when his mother died. His dad had run off so she did what she could to get by. Anyway, I promised the short version." She winced in that childlike mischievous way he loved so much, "So, since history seems to repeat itself, I might have gotten caught in the barn making off with a bag of apples?"

He sat back on her thighs and guffawed, "What is it with you two and barns?"

She said, "Oh, it gets better. I was almost out the back when someone grabbed my collar and threw me into a pile of hay. I latched onto the limb of the person and we tumbled down together." Alyssa couldn't stop herself from beaming. Zevran could feel her skin flush with renewed heat at the memory. "He was so handsome. Around my age, short dark hair and a scar on his chin. He had the bluest eyes I've ever seen."

"Was he happy to see you?"

"Um, startled I think. He kept stuttering in between demanding questions. Who was I? What was I doing in his father's barn? But when he tried to stand he kept losing his balance and, well, grabbing me and blushing and trying to compose himself. When I held his wrist he stopped moving. Before I knew it we were kissing and trying to get our clothes off like our lives depended on it. It was clumsy, a little painful, and rushed. But wonderful." She blushed and smiled broadly. "My shins were bruised and I had hay wedged in my ass. I went back a few more times to see him. Each time he had a bag of vegetables or fruit waiting for me."

"I'm sure he was more of an incentive than the food you were given."

"He was..." She sighed and her smile waned. "But soon the Templars came, as they always did. I didn't have time to say good bye, but I never forgot him. I used to have a length of ribbon that was gifted to me from a patient. I left it tied to one of the nails in the barn where he could see it."

Zevran leaned down to taste her lips, sucking gently on the bottom. "I'm glad your first time was so wonderful." So many other female Crow recruits could not say the same. He almost couldn't himself, but thank the Maker for his gift of speed and quick thinking.

Alyssa must have caught something in his expression which prompted her to ask, "Were you not so lucky?"

"I was. Less comical though." From the glance away, he could tell she wanted to ask something that might be considered delicate. He was hoping it was not about his past.

"I'm guessing there have been… a few women for you, then?"

 _Mierda_ …Well it was bound to come up at some point, due to his big mouth. One could only brag so much before someone asked for proof. "This could be a sensitive topic,  _mi amor_. Are you sure you wish to voyage there?"

She shrugged and squirmed a little, "I'm a little curious. But you don't have to answer if you don't want to."

That was bullshit. When a woman says 'you don't have to answer' you better have something clever to say if it is not the truth that will pass your lips. That much he knew. "As you wish," He sighed and moved from her waist to the bedroll. If she was going to throw him out, he might as well be able to grab his clothes in a hurry. No need to run about the camp naked. "Let me start by saying that my history is varied, indeed. It has also not been restricted to women. Does…" he rubbed the side of his head before looking back up, "does that offend you?"

Alyssa's eyes went wide as saucers, "Wait? You mean…wow."

He grinned. Not the answer he expected, but he'd be lying if he didn't admit her fascination stirred renewed desire in him. "I grew up amongst whores, cara. Sex is best when done well and truly; that is my only rule. I do prefer women, but you must understand that a certain open-mindedness is sought by the Crows in their recruits. For very good reasons."

"I'm sorry. I know you were saying words that meant things, but I got sidetracked by a very homoerotic fantasy about you and Alistair and I'm not even sure why I just said that out loud." Zevran burst into reels of laughter and missed half of what she said after. No doubt it was more back pedaling and trying to add multiple caveats to her statement. "I'm so sorry!"

He wiped his eyes with the back of his hand, "Why? I haven't laughed that hard since before Orzammar. I had almost forgotten how good it feels."

"Here you are opening up to me and I just let my mind wander into—" Alyssa flapped both hands and shook her head as if trying to shake off the flush in her cheeks, "Never mind!" She sighed. "I'm sorry." His chuckling subsided as she sat up lacing her fingers with his. "I hesitate to ask what the reasons were."

"I have had to do many things in my work as an assassin, some pleasant and many not so." He paused for a moment, the joy tempered by memories. "The Crows recruit elven assassins because we are considered beautiful by humans…I'm sure you can imagine the rest." He certainly didn't want to relive it so the thought died on his lips. "I cannot change my past, obviously. I regret far more than the men and women I have been with and if that is more than you can bear… well then, it is good we know now, yes?" What the hell did that mean? If she tossed him out on his ass now, he'd be torn to shreds. His first mistake was discovering what her kiss tasted like. His second was allowing himself to be pulled into her tent. It was all downhill from there and he had no one to blame but himself and his over active libido.

She still held his hands. No yelling.

He looked up at her. No tears.

She leaned over and kissed him. "You've been through so much, haven't you?"

"Ahh, it's just old scars and nothing more which you see," he shrugged, trying to sound flippant, "Ignore them as I do and perhaps they'll go away."

"Or," she pulled him into her arms, "I can help you heal them."

Time ceased to be measured in their long embrace. Alyssa held him against her chest until he felt all the knots loosen, letting the scent of her fill his lungs, feeling her fingers running through his hair. Only his honed control kept him from breaking open, but it was close.

That was the first night Zevran ever slept in absolute peace.


End file.
